Till We Have Faces
by Rogue Hellsing
Summary: When Luke rejects Darth Vader's offer of a chance to rule by his side on Bespin, he sets into motion a long series of struggles between sacred and profane love, as Vader learns that we cannot truly care for a person "till we have faces", and sincerity in our souls and selves.
1. Part I: One

**Author's Note: **I stumbled across a book of mine by C.S. Lewis the other day while cleaning, and this story kind of just fell together. I don't quite know how to explain it, it's going to be a mixed POV story with a bit of first person at the beginning of every chapter. I do think that the ending will be worth it, even if it is a long way off. Yes, this is one of those Vader redemption/Father son fluff fics. Eventually. A slightly more despairing, realistic take on what would happen in that instance, so naturally, this will be AU... but it does still fairly close to the actual plot, so the slight deviations might be annoying to some. And, as a final note, I don't keep track of the weather patterns on Corellia. Nor do I pay super close attention to my spelling, so I apologize in advance if my ignorance in some areas is annoying. But, with all that said... on to the story? This first chapter is kinda a set the scene, set the tone kind of chapter, so the first chapter, naturally, will be short. So.

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**Disclaimer:** This is a bloody disclaimer, I don't own anything. Clearly Disney has the money, though, so all rights to them.

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One

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I am older now, and have little left to fear from the anger of the Emperor. I have no wife, nor the child she would have born me, and not a being to call a friend through whom he can hurt me. Not anymore. My body, as if it can be called that, is trapped in this infernal suit, neither washed nor fed through any normal means. He may kill me as soon as a successor is provided for. I know this now. It is the way of the Sith.

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Thick soled boots sloshed through the endless puddles of rainwater and mud that blanketed the planet's surface. Birds from high above the forest floor hushed and stilled in the thick, muggy air, their once joyful chorusing reduced to frightened whispers of warning. The clouds high above swirled and crashed about in the heavens, flickers of lightning darting through the dark expanses, cracks of white against the black darkness. The rain had sprinkled the leafy canopy before, but now spewed in cascades from the tumultuous heavens, drenching the single being exposed to the torrent. Rivulets of water ran in thin trails down a black cape, droplets hung from the edge of a dark helmet. The forest paused, holding its breath.

A mechanical exhale.

The forest erupted.

Small birds and animals darted out from the undergrowth, braving the sheets of rain that fell from the skies, vanishing in the mist, natives to the forested planet sprang from the leafy huts they had for so long called their homes, panicking, desperate to escape the crimson sabre of death incarnate. But none could. Brown, mudded water turned red.

But it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough, damn it!

Rage streaked his tinted vision. A sound like the thunder overhead bellowed across the clearing. The trees were cracking, groaning under the weight of the sheer darkness spilling from where Darth Vader stood, surrounded by corpses, the smaller ones buckling, falling to their knees before the Sith Lord. Vader had always hunted after frustrating events. After his rebirth. After the escape of the Princess. After the Battle of Yavin. After the Battle of Hoth. But that had all been nothing.

Nothing compared to now.

Death clung to him like a plague now; a heavy, stinking black shadow that trailed behind him, leaving bodies in its wake. The lightsabre hummed in his hand, as if it were thirsting for more blood to quench an insatiable thirst. Vader would not deny it.

There.

One lone dissenter from the massacre.

Drenched though, earth coloured cloak plastered to his slight body, a single Jedi stood in his path. The blue light radiating from the lightsabre quivered as the blade threatened to slip through trembling fingers. In a flurry of sparks, the blades collided, the monstrous power behind Vader sending the young Knight stumbling back, sinking to his knees in the mud, drawing in short gasps to calm himself. And rose. The sabres collided again, the faceless demon dancing with the slight man in a violent tarantella. He was close enough to see his eyes, see the lights reflected in them, to savour the fear, the worry and the sadne...NO!

A surge of hatred pulsed through him, sending his lightsabre straight through the centre of the other man.

NO! He would not be looked at like that, he would not face that expression! Not again.

Kicking the dying Jedi aside, he continued his massacre.

But it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough!

Nothing could satisfy his anger now, not this time.

How could this happen?

His son, **_his_** son, had rejected his proposition. Had rejected power. Had chosen death over his father!

A mechanical snarl hissed through the vocoder and he let loose an animalistic roar, the sound warping into a grating mechanical buzz. Not even helpless screams of fury could stave off the anger.

That shouldn't have happened! His son, his flesh and blood should have chosen **_him!_** His hand could have been replaced; it would have been easy enough. The Emperor could have provided him with the best technology available, he would have been better than new!

With another frustrated shout, Vader plunged the red sabre through the heart of a tree, some of the tension easing as he felt the bark crack, the tree groan.

And still the rain continued.

The memory of what had happened flickered through his mind, feeling a swell of pride as he remembered the snarl of hatred, the pure, unadulterated anger in his son's eyes as he spat at who he had called his father's murdered.

Vader permitted himself a dark chuckle. He supposed that was a correct assessment, from a certain point of view. Anakin Skywalker was dead. But Darth Vader was still very much alive. As Luke's father. The brief second of amusement vanished as the memory continued to play, unbidden. The superficial rage had vanished, and the expression that Luke's face had morphed into struck him to the core.

Try as he might, the haunted look in his son's eyes would not leave his mind. So many emotions flitted through those expressive eyes, all in the course of a moment, some going so fast he could hardly name them.

Anger.

Shock.

Denial.

Desparation.

Terror.

Agony.

And then...

Defeat.

And sadness.

That sadness, that infinite, gut wrenching split-second of grief had seared itself into his brain. He had expected the hatred, the anger, all things that could aid in bringing him to the Dark Side, like he needed to be.

But the pain in Luke's eyes had caught him unaware, leaving him unsure, hesitant. When the boy had closed his eyes and let go, Vader had still been too stunned to react, and could only watch in numb denial as Luke plummeted. Something in his chest had constricted tightly. He wrote it off as failing equipment.

His heart had died long ago.

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**Last Note: **Thank you so much for reading! Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you so much!


	2. Part I: Two

**Author's Note: **A big thank you to froovygirl, IntelEwok and shadowsteed for reviewing! This chapter, like the last one, will still primarily focus on Vader, as it's still setting the scene. This scene setting stuff will probably continue through chapter three. Why am I telling you this? Because people hardly ever read the Author's Note. But anyways, these first three chapters are key to understanding the rest of the story, especially chapter three. So, bear with me again! But I am motivated to keep updating this one fairly frequently, as I'm kinda at a brain fart with my other fic and just rewriting it in bits and pieces. C:

A last warning though, this story starts out with jumps between each chapter. This is intentional, I assure you. It becomes vastly more fluid as the story progresses, after things start to tumble together. Because redemption, as you know, is a lot like weight loss. It takes a long time. C;

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**Disclaimer: **Disney owns, I don't.

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Two

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I can say very little about my wife, she...she didn't survive. She was with child...we had been so hopeful, so happy about her. In retrospect, my wife was right about the gender, it was a boy, not a girl like I thought...but I could hardly keep myself from bursting out with joy and telling every person I met.

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The air on board the Executor thrummed with tension. No one had heard or seen any sign of the flagship's commander, and nearly a week had passed since he had landed on Tython. Under normal circumstances, Vader's absence would hardly be missed, rather, would come as a welcome relief for all those under the threat of the draconian commander. But this time, Vader had briefly stated that he would return in a day or two.

Vader was never late.

Admiral Firmus Piett paced the bridge of the Executor, the heavy footsteps a methodical drone in the background of the hushed whispers of the workers. Lord Vader had assured them he would be back. It was only a matter of time, he insisted to himself. The consequences of the Emperor's wrath were best left unconsidered. Vader would return he just –

"Sir?" Piett snapped to attention and spun around.

"Yes, Lieutenant, what is it?" The man blinked once before replying.

"We have Lord Vader's craft on radar." Piett didn't even register the heavy sigh of relief that burst from his chest. He nodded sharply.

"Good. You heard the man, prepare to welcome Lord Vader back!" The bridge erupted into a frenzy of movement.

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The shuttle glided to a halt and landed almost gracefully on the pristine steel floor. The loud hissing of the door being opened echoed out in the room, and at once the familiar mechanized breathing echoed through the cavernous docking bay. Piett swallowed nervously and straightened as the all too familiar Dark Lord strode from his craft. Instantly, all the occupants of the bay could feel his anger. The air became heavy and thick. Piett could hear the blood pounding in his ears. One of the clones gave a muffled groan and staggered on his feet. The sheer pressure of the malice was overpowering every other thought. Firmus had been on board the Executor long enough to know when Vader was upset, but this... this was unprecedented. Vader paused a few feet in front of him, turning his head just slightly in his direction.

"I shall be in my chambers. Do _not_ disturb me." The slight inflection in the voice left no doubts as to what the consequences to such actions would be. Piett swallowed thickly, his tongue suddenly sandpaper in his mouth.

"Y-Yes, milord." Even the words came out slightly slurred in face of such menacing hatred. A cold sweat broke out on his skin as Vader paused for a moment. And with a whirl of a drenched cape, he was gone.

Piett sank to his knees in relief.

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The lid on the chamber sealed shut with a heavy sigh, the claw-like arm descending to remove the helmet. A snap. A hiss. Vader sucked in a cold breath, feeling the clean air filter through his ruined lungs. Letting lose a pent up, heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair, letting his scarred head rest against the worn fabric.

Son. **_His_** son.

Alive.

Memories sprang, unbidden to his mind. Memories from another time, another life. A life when there was still Anakin Skywalker, not Darth Vader. A life that died when he killed...when...

When...she...

Things had been going so well for them. Married, expecting. He could have sworn it would have been a girl. A beautiful baby girl, with brown eyes like her mother. But, instead, to his surprise, he had a son. A beautiful, strong, disgustingly naive son. But his all the same. Life could have been so different for them had...she... They could have ruled together. He wouldn't have let himself live under the heel of the Emperor so readily, he would have killed his Master.

They could have been together...

If only Obi-Wan hadn't arrived.

His abating rage redoubled.

That damned old man! Huttese curses flew from his mouth, insults so vulgar and violent, he could just feel Sith Lords rolling in their graves. Nothing could abate his anger now nothing –

The sides of the hyperbaric chamber began to groan under the pressure of the Force.

Choking back an enraged snarl, Vader managed to check his anger just enough to prevent the entire capsule from bursting from the weight of the Dark Side that had slammed against it. A heavy breath hissed through clenched teeth, the sound reminiscent of his helmet.

Obi-Wan was dead.

There was no point in hating a dead man.

For the second time in a month, something in his chest tightened.

Leaning back again, Vader allowed his thoughts to wander away from Obi-Wan, away from the Jedi, and back to...

Back to...

Padmé.

Just the thought of her smile brought some calm to the storm of anger that had brewed in his mind.

The way those soft lips pulled back to reveal perfect white teeth, and the way her eyes lit up.

Oh, her eyes. He could drown in the beauty of those eyes. How they held no judgement, no condemnation, only steadfast love. At least...at least until those eyes had dimmed on...

Vader clamped that thought down under tight shields.

Things could have ended so differently had he been strong enough in the Dark Side. Strong enough to save Padmé. But he hadn't. He hadn't been able to immerse himself fully. There had been a part of Anakin Skywalker that hadn't died. He cursed again, grudgingly giving the weak fool that much credit, enough credit to stay alive. But he had been buried. Buried deep within Vader, never to escape the confines of a prison he had helped construct. And it would remain that way.

What Vader couldn't understand, was why Padmé had insisted that she couldn't follow him. Why she had sobbed for him. Yes, Obi-Wan had twisted her mind...but she wasn't one to be easily influenced, she never had been. So had there be –

With a snarl, Vader shut down his rampant thoughts, hitting a button on the panel before him, lowering the helmet back down.

It sealed with a loud hiss.

Shortly after, the chamber opened, and Darth Vader strode out.

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For the second time in one day, Firmus Piett was sufficiently floored by the attitude of his commander. Vader, when in a rage, and remained in his chambers for days on end. But here he was, pacing the bridge, barking orders after a mere three hours.

He couldn't name what it was, but something had spurred him to begin a desperate search for rebels. Granted, it wasn't to the scale or the intensity of the search he had mounted after the Battle of Yavin, but nonetheless, the air on the Executor was rife with tension.

"Sir! I believe we've located a Rebel base!"

From underneath the expressionless mask, a cruel smirk twisted Vader's scarred visage.

He would hunt. He would kill.

He was a Sith, after all.

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_Please review! Thanks for reading!_


	3. Part I: Three

**Author's Note:** This will be one of the last really disjointed chapters, I promise you! Granted, the other chapters will still happen in jumps for a while, but nothing so sloppy or disjointed as these first three! Anyways, this one takes place outside of Vader/Leia/Luke due to the need to set up the character of Anakin Skywalker/Vader when it comes to issues and stuff, from a, well...wiser perspective. This chapter sets up the tone for the rest of the story, so, while it is short, it will be the last one that is so short and lacking in substantial action. Also, a note of warning, next chapter will be where the story starts to take a more definitive AU turn. Oh, and the first person tidbits. Don't be so sure you know who's writing/saying them... but do pay close attention to them! They are, actually, one of the most important parts of the story.

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**Shadowsteed:** Thanks again for the review, then! C: While I certainly agree with your sediments on Vader – that black suit is _so_ damn cool – I have the entire plot of the story based off of the book, in a sort of twisted way. How it ends up, you'll have to see! But I can assure you, while at times it may seem like it, this story will not end like you think it will. C: I hope you keep reading! And I may have to steal that "good Sith" idea...I really like it! (By the way, I'm addicted to the Old Republic game, it's bloody fantastic. C;)

**Treenahasthaal:** I hope my version of Luke lives up to your expectations! And the misspells were more towards Star Wars related stuff, as I spelled Corellia as 'Correllia', and other little things like that. I didn't want to make a bad impression, so I found out the proper spelling quickly for that, but I wholeheartedly agree! Beta readers are wonderful!

**BenRG:** Thank you! I saw somewhere that someone said that the thread that remained of Anakin Skywalker became the noose that hung Darth Sidious, so I hope I do a decent job portraying that slight conflict for you!

**Froovygirl: **Thanks again for the review! A word of warning, though, Luke and Leia don't come into play too soon... but they will eventually! I hope you like how it goes!

**Alderaan Girl:** Thank you! Here's the update! C:

**Atlasina7:** I hope you keep reading! I'm sorry to disappoint, Luke won't be making any major appearances quite yet. I still need to get a better feel for his character (movie marathon this weekend), so I hope I do him justice! Thank you!

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own, sadly. It'd be an interesting Star Wars 7 if I did. C;

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Three

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It was my fault that brief...happiness...ended. I can admit that now. I wanted to become stronger, I needed to save her! She came to me on...Mustafar... Obi-Wan, that traitorous scum, knew that we were married. He stole her away from me, turned her against me! And I... believed that.

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_There is no emotion, there is peace. _

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. _

_There is no passion, there is serenity. _

_There is no chaos, there is harmony. _

_There is no death, there is the Force._

Obi-Wan let out a soft snort at that. There certainly was the Force. With a sigh, he let his ethereal body sag back against Yoda's dusty couch. It had been twenty-three years since that fateful duel on Mustafar, and to the day, he still, for the life of him, couldn't figure out just what had made his Padawan turn. Turn from a bright, wonderful little boy into...into a faceless monster. His soul ached painfully at that, making him laugh bitterly. He didn't have a heart to be broken anymore, but his being still grieved for the loss of Anakin.

His best friend.

His brother.

Slaughtered by Vader. His soul had been, at least. There was nothing left of the Hero With no Fear. Just the demon to be feared.

Still deep in thought, Obi-Wan slowly began to rewind the reel of memories that he had stowed away for so long. He had just tried to forget. Forget everything. Burying the memories deep inside himself, trying to spare himself the grief those memories caused. When Luke stumbled into his hut on Tatooine, it was almost too much to see the only legacy Anakin Skywalker had left. But all the same, he kept those memories locked away.

But now, he had to remember.

Those memories needed to be dredged up again.

Those last moments on Mustafar.

The horrifying gold of Anakin's eyes.

The slaughtering of the innocents.

He needed to know what had caused it. He was certain he'd never know for sure, but there had been signs...there had to have been signs.

Anakin rushing on board the ship, shouting something about them needing to take off and Qui-Gon in trouble. Anakin in the star ship on Naboo. Anakin looking up at him with those broken blue eyes, crying the tears that Obi-Wan wouldn't. Promising to train him. Anakin growing taller, more reckless, more cheeky. The incessant dreams about his –

Obi-Wan paused.

Could his dream have sent him tumbling over the edge? Surely not.

But at the same time...

He had loved him mother so dearly, with a strange possession. Come to think of it, he had loved so many with such passion, almost to the point of being overbearing. He had never been able to let go of his mother. Not that Obi-Wan blamed him. But he couldn't quite understand it either. A thought struck him then.

The Jedi Code forbid attachment, but not love.

Anakin Skywalker had been capable of more love than all of Coruscant combined. And he gave his all for those he cared for. His mother, Padmé, Qui-Gon Jinn... A sad smile crossed his lips as he counted himself. And then...

Then...there was Palpatine.

In any other circumstance, Obi-Wan would have been ashamed at the very un-Jedi-like thoughts that swarmed into his mind, smacking against the insides of his skull. Darth Sidious had always been a twisted serpent, slinking about behind the scenes, orchestrating the destruction of Skywalker, the Jedi, and any sense of righteousness and standards in one fell swoop. Ghostly teeth gnashed in disgust.

Anakin had loved with such attachment, such ugly possessiveness. He couldn't share those he cared about. He claimed people, and did everything for them, even putting his own life to forfeit in some circumstances. There had been many a mission in which Anakin recklessly put everything on the line to save his master, without the slightest regard for his own safety, telling him that he couldn't lose him.

It boiled down to his fear of loss of those he claimed.

And all at once he knew the catalyst for Anakin's descent.

But... he began to try and understand what had prompted this kind of behaviour. He had to understand. He had shoved aside such thoughts for twenty three years, and if it took death to finally understand his former padawan, then so be it.

Anakin had been basically born into slavery, with nothing material that he could really call his. But he had his mother. And perhaps, inadvertently, she was the reason why he clung to people so desperately. Because he needed them. Because he craved human contact.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily, sorrow overtaking him.

It didn't matter how possessive or twisted Anakin's love of others had become. His fall to the dark side still was the fault of one person.

The very person who couldn't bring himself to kill his brother as flames engulfed him. The one who didn't have the heart to end his life, even if it was to end his suffering.

His soul ached. He knew he would be sobbing silently if he were alive. But Vader had taken care of that, he thought grimly.

_"Anakin, someday you are going to be the death of me."_ Oh, Force, the irony of it all.

Vader had killed him, this much was true. But, somewhere deep down, he wanted to believe that Vader's hesitance had meant something else than a cat toying with its prey. He thought that maybe, just maybe, the remnants of Anakin's soul had fought against the demon he had become, trying to spare his old master's life.

He had even called him master.

Not his old master.

But master.

Obi-Wan let his head flump against the back of the couch, thoroughly despairing now.

He had tried to save Anakin. Padmé had tried to save him. Come to think of it, that was all they had ever done. Tried to 'save' him. From one form of slavery to another.

They had taken Anakin from everything he knew, torn him from his old life on Tatooine under the guise of freeing him from slavery...only to subject him to a new form of slavery. From physical bonds to mental and emotional chains. And Vader... Vader was a slave in every way.

Another wave of grief swept through Obi-Wan as he again cursed his weakness and inability to put his dearest friend out of his suffering. His inability to even stay with him. To even be there for him.

There was no one else to blame.

The fault was solely his.

He should have paid closer attention to his Padawan, should have cared enough and made Anakin feel needed and wanted right off the bat instead of bemoaning his misfortune. He should have stayed behind when Anakin made his carefully worded appeal to him. Should have listened to Anakin's dreams. Should have...

Could have...

But didn't.

Letting out a pained sigh, he raised himself off the dusty couch.

That was all part of the past, now.

Skywalker and Kenobi were both dead.

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_Please review! Thanks for reading!_


	4. Part I: Four

**Author's Note:** Alright! Here we go, now we're getting into some action, primarily with Vader at first, but branching out to touch Luke at some point! The story will most certainly be venturing into the realm of plausible canon AU right now, as in it could have happened in the time between Episode V and VI. But...after this, it will be definitively AU. SO! Bear with me here, it's going to be a bumpy ride!

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**Amenofis:** Thank you!

**Froovygirl: **I'm glad you liked the last line, haha! Thank you!

**IntelEwok:** Finals might be slowing updates down a bit, so I apologize in advance. Sorry! But I hope you like it and keep reading!

**Alderaan Girl:** Thank you!

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**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

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Four

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Up until Bespin, I had not understood, really, how others acted and reacted to the ones they loved. Luke tried to save his friends, and it failed. I do not see how he cannot understand that the only way to save anyone is through the Dark Side. I suppose, however, that his friends' adoration of him, which made me afraid in one way, comforted me in another. For I was confused in my mind, sometimes thinking of what the Emperor would do to him if he couldn't be turned, and sometimes of what his friends would do if they knew I was his father.

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The lights had long been shut off in the hyperbaric chamber. Without the dreadful mask, there was no noise, aside from the soft hiss of the vents filtering air. Vader was alone with the darkness. Alone with his thoughts.

Again.

It had been a few weeks since Bespin, nearly a month, now. He had spent every day venting his frustrations on his men, his enemies, and even entire planet systems with new laws and demands to be met. And, finally, most of the anger that had turned his vision red had drained out, leaving just the darkness, confusion, and endless, maddening questions. Power was all he Luke would have needed to save his friends. Power from the Dark Side. And Vader had seen the traces of the Dark Side in him. Felt it. The anger, the spite, the fear. It had all been there. Luke would be a superb Sith apprentice, just as the Emperor had foreseen.

Vader leaned back with a heavy sigh, letting his eyes drift shut. The waves of sleep and exhaustion he had staved off for so long threatened to overcome him. It was only moments until sleep overtook him.

As per usual, sleep didn't grant him any relief from the horrors of life.

Haunting fragments of a life that no longer existed floated before his eyes. Sand, dust, dirt. Running, racing, flying. Panic, running, escaping. Angels and demons. Saints and sinners.

Padmé screaming.

Vader jerked from his deep sleep, but couldn't pull himself into awareness. Despite how desperately he wanted to escape the realm of terrors, something kept him trapped just out of reach of the memories.

He felt himself floating out, away from his mind. An experience he likened to those Force-awful times Obi-Wan forced him to meditate in the temple, on the starships, or anywhere his Master decided to inflict torture. _Former master._ A voice somewhere distant nagged him, but he paid it no heed. At the edge of his reality, he sensed a powerful presence, lingering, waiting, almost inviting him to come. He ventured closer. The presence grew.

_Luke._

A trill of excitement rushed through Vader at that. A way to contact his son! He could feel the dark amusement bubbling up in him. Luke would never be able to resist the awesome power of the Dark Side, now. He would be able to constantly talk to him, reassure him, convince him that the Dark Side of the Force would be the only way to truly be free and save those you care about. Eager to bring his son to his rightful place – by his father's side – he reached out along to the presence.

_/Luke? Can you hear me, my son?/_

The reaction was immediate. Shields unlike any Vader had encountered in the boy slammed up, the boy's entire being recoiling from him.

Vader froze.

_/Luke, listen to me. You __**must**__ listen to me./_

There was no reply. The shields refused to budge, but he could feel every emotion radiating out from the boy's Force presence. He dismissed all the confusion and hatred quickly, letting it go, and tried to make contact again.

And then his son took him by surprise yet again.

There was a fear unlike any he had experienced. It wasn't a fear of loss, or dying. Not a fear of leaving loved ones behind, or starting over. It was a fear with an explicit, singular source. A source with a black cape that breathed with the help of a respirator.

Vader jerked back.

His son was...

Was...

Terrified. Of him. **_Of his father._**

_Oh, Force, what have I –_

Vader's own shields slammed down. Skywalker was dead. The imbecile was dead!

Cold fury rose up in his chest. The slight bit of conflict –

There was no conflict. There was only the Dark Side. There was only the Dark Side of the Force. The foolish Jedi had never known the extent of the power that it had given him. The power to save everyone, protect everyone.

_So why is –_

Vader awoke with a start, feeling remorseless as the Force slammed into the sides of the chamber. The helmet clamped around his head and he gave not a care as his fury blasted the hyperbaric chamber apart. The snarl he gave came out as a hiss through the vocoder. His foolish offspring would soon have no choice but to reconcile the so-called 'hero' Anakin Skywalker' with who his father was meant to be; Darth Vader.

After all, it was as the Emperor had foreseen.

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_Short chapter, I know, I'm sorry! Please review, and thank you for reading!_


	5. Part I: Five

**Author's Note:** Okay, so maybe I lied about the last chapter being interesting. This one, though, I promise is much better. And for the Luke lovers, Luke doesn't actually talk until chapter seven... I'm sorry, don't shoot me! I'm skipping out on studying for a final tomorrow for you guys. Be happy! Actually, I wouldn't be able to focus until I got the idea out of my head, but oh well. Oh, and, a character that shows up deviates from what has been determined to be canon, but as I prefer to go with what has been solidified in the movies (or in The Old Republic), I think it could work out. C:

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**Froovygirl:** I dunno, I kind of got the feeling that Vader was all big and bad due to the condition which he was in. I mean, granted that Anakin was pretty evil when he slaughtered the younglings, but the malice that accompanies him is due to his injuries. Because before he was just carrying out orders from Palpatine, but in ESB, he just goes nuts on Luke and the gang. So, it seemed like whenever he was without the mask in his chamber with just his thoughts, the anger would be more like being upset? If that makes any sense, haha. Thank you for the compliments, though! It means quite a bit to me! I've been trying to improve my writing, and the fact that the ideas are conveyed clearly is great to hear! Thank you so much! I hope you keep reading!

**Treenahasthaal:** I'm really glad Luke is living up to standards! He will mature into that Luke we love in ROTJ, but I'm thinking about making it more interesting on the way there. C: Thank you so much for the compliments! I hope you keep reading!

**Amenofis:** I think you'll enjoy what he thinks of the reconciliation. C: It won't come for a while, as you can probably tell, this story is mostly Vader-centric, so... But I hope you stick with it! Thank you!

**PinkRangerV:** Thank you for the advice! It's very welcome! I went back through this chapter and tried to cut down on the choppy sentences and work on Vader's speech patterns, I hope they turn out better. Thanks for the feedback! I hope you keep reading!

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**Disclaimer**: I don't own this, and I'm not trying to make a profit off of it. I really can't if I don't own anything in here.

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Five

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The Emperor greeted me and told me, once again, that I must find and retrieve Luke, and told me that it was my duty as his apprentice. But I knew, somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind, that if I brought Luke to the Emperor, I wouldn't be an apprentice any longer.

* * *

Vader paced restlessly across the bridge of the _Executor_. Too long had he been caged aboard the flagship of the fleet, too long had he been forced to deal with the idiots and incompetent officers who graced the mighty ship's crew during their frantic goose chase across the galaxy. The Rebellion had remained hidden, and despite the endless amounts of spies that were deployed across the universe, there had been hardly a sound from the Alliance. Vader continued his stoic pacing, thoroughly entrenched in his own thoughts, hardly seeing or hearing the hushed murmurs of the crew around him.

_Where are you, my son? Where could you be hiding – from me - ?_ Vader scowled as the last bit tacked itself onto the thought unbidden. The errant thoughts had been slowly increasing in frequency, much to his irritation. He reached out to the darkness and felt it encircle him lovingly, purging the conflict from his mind, leaving him at a sense of half-peace with himself as he resumed his focus on mentally sifting through possible, plausible, and implausible destinations for Rebel encampments.

The shift in the atmosphere was tangible in the close quarters of the _Executor_. Admiral Piett swallowed nervously. Granted, the raw power the seeped from his commander's dark form hardly compared to the palpable malice that had cloaked him only a week or so before. The fear that Darth Vader's untamed might produced remained the same. Glancing around, he knew that his comrades felt the change as well. Backs straight, neck muscles taut, jaws set. A slip up now would only result in one thing.

"Admiral Piett, sir! We've picked up something from one of our agents!" Piett snapped to attention, striding over to the officer in a few quick steps.

"Well, spit it out, then!" Piett grimaced at the terseness of his voice. Lashing out a crewmembers was normally an unusual thing for him to do, but given the dark atmosphere which had enveloped them... he supposed he would be forgiven for his curt attitude. The officer typed away quickly, punching in keys, trying to clear the signal.

"He's reporting from the Outer Rim, sir. I can't get much b-better of a reception th-than this." The man's hands trembled just slightly, his pupils dilated, his skin shone under the harsh lights from overhead. Piett nodded grimly.

"It will have to do." For it was true, Vader would have to accept that the poor man couldn't clear up the signal any more than he had. For a territory so far from the _Executor_'s position near the Core Worlds, he had done exceptionally remarkable. The man quickly launched into an explanation of all he had made out from the report, apologizing repeatedly for his lack of clarity. Piett knew better than to offer any reassurances, just nodded stiffly. Clasping his hands tightly behind his back in a ditch effort to brace himself, he strode over and walked along his pacing commander.

"Excuse me, milord, but I believe we have information on a Rebel base." Vader stopped abruptly, whirling on Piett. There was nothing but his own terror reflecting back from the eyeless sockets, nothing but endless pitch black.

"What have you learned, Admiral?" The voice shocked Piett from his reverie.

"M-Milord, we believe there is a fairly important Rebel base in the Outer Rim. I believe the planet was Er'Kit." His lips were chapped. Thick saliva slurred his speech just slightly. Piett mentally cursed his senseless fright. He licked his lips, his eyes darting across the expressionless mask. A rumbling hum came from Vader, the masked head dipping pensively as he marched forward. The bridge vibrated slightly with each slow, deliberate step from the Machiavellian commander. He stopped.

"I believe your hunch is correct, Admiral. Make haste for Er'Kit, I want to be there in no less than fourteen hours."

"Y-Yes, milord!"

"I will be in my personal hangar; I recommend you do not disturb me unless you find it absolutely necessary."

"Of c-course, milord!" Vader paused again.

"Very well. You have the bridge, Admiral."

In a whirl of his dark cape, Vader swept from the deck and vanished from sight.

* * *

Piett had alerted him promptly upon their arrival at the barren planet. Vader, having finished with alterations to his personal shuttle, had left promptly without a word to his, merely telling them to wait for his return. Upon landing on the planet, Vader could not stop the violent Huttese that flew from his mouth.

He had crossed the galaxy looking for rebels, travelling through mountains, rainforests, oceans, space, nearly every terrain...

But Force! Of all the places in the universe, his informants had to lead him to a Sith-forsaken, desert Outer Rim planet. The irritation boiled deep within his chest as he stalked across the dunes, knowing he'd be finding sand in his cybernetics for the next few weeks. Drawing on his irritation, allowing it to grow into full on anger, he revelled in the power that coursed through the veins and circuits that made up his body. Such strength! A cruel grin twisted his scarred visage. If the information proved to be correct, the Rebellion would be dealt a crippling blow. One that would leave them – and Luke – vulnerable to the whims of the Empire. Allegedly, a computer network that had been set up contained information tracking nearly a fifth of the members of the Alliance. With that kind of information at his disposal, hunting would be much easier, and perhaps, for once, he would be given a respite from the Emperor. A self-deprecating smile. A hiatus from the wrath of the Emperor was the equivalent of the Hutt family deciding that they didn't like Rancors. It would never happen.

Pulling himself from his thoughts he strode along the dusty streets of a small town, flanked by a battalion of troopers, a column of mindless soldiers trailing on both sides. By now, the sand had coated a thin layer on the once pristine, white uniforms, tarnishing them, tainting the image of a well polished soldier into something more rugged, more war hardened. A flash of a particular clone commander crossed his mind, his face streaked with mud, grime and gunpowder. The same commander risking his life for – Vader struck the thought down. Aside from the swirling desert, the town remained frozen, as if holding a baited breath, waiting for Vader to make his move. The small flats that lined the narrow, cobblestone street were boarded up and sealed shut. Clearly the locals had been alerted. But there was more to it. Tarp covered shops swayed in the faint breeze that swept across the ghostly streets, speeders laid overturned by the shacks, their rusted panes creaking.

At once he was struck by an impossible sense of familiarity.

He could have been here before, on a mission for his master to retrieve something, or to win something. Come to think of it, the desert planet was hauntingly similar to -

Vader straightened, jerking to the side to look at the trooper closest to him.

"Commander, take your men and search this town for any sign of Rebel activity. If you find anyone suspicious, bring them to me immediately." The clone snapped to attention.

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir." With swift efficiency, he turned and began barking orders at the rest of the battalion, who dispersed as assigned, barging into the seemingly abandoned flats. Vader stood alone in seconds. Alone, save for the screams that began to ring from the surrounding houses. Vader remained frozen to the ground, his cape fluttering slightly in the wind, the edges stained with dark red sand. The streets remained empty. It was better to take chances with Storm troopers than to cross Darth Vader. The troopers were not on orders to exterminate, and would not do so unless attacked. Vader didn't have any such orders. Crossing Vader would be to guarantee death.

A loud scream. The door burst open. A woman stumbled into the street, an elegant Er'Kit native clutching a small babe to her breast. Breathless and desperate, she looked around for a refuge.

Her eyes caught sight of him, her mouth opening in a silent cry, and took a few steps towards him.

And threw herself at his feet.

Bruised, pale-grey cheeks were streaked with soot and tears that glittered in her mud coloured eyes as the child in her arms squalled helplessly. Her limbs were hardly more than skin and bones - the result of severe malnourishment. Her gnarled fingers tangled in his cape, a burst of pleading bubbled out from her, all in her native tongue. Waves of emotion rolled off her decrepit body. He felt her fear, her terror. Some fear of him, but more from-

Her ravaged face contorted, a horrendous, gut-wrenching shriek tearing from her slight frame.

The woman and the child in her arms exploded.

Blood stained his lenses, his armour.

Blood on his hands.

A slave.

_She had been a slave._

Rage bubbled to life within Vader. Inexplicable, all consuming fury threatened to burn him alive. The owners had...

He was in the doorway before his conscious mind had registered the action.

The sight that confronted him only served to exponentially multiply his wrath.

An Er'Kit lay on the floor, broken and bloodied, vicious lacerations snarling down his body, his breath coming in rattling gasps. A slave. Above him stood a human male, his face contorted into a hideous shout of fury, an ancient, electric whip sizzling in his hand. He could hardly comprehend the hatred that roared to life within him. He had used hatred and fury for over twenty years, immersing himself fully in the dark side, but never, _never_ had his wrath felt so...righteous. So justified.

"And what is it that you are doing?" The owner didn't seem to comprehend the distinctive mechanical rasp that belonged to a single individual in the whole of the galaxy. The Dark Side rushed in around Vader like an unleashed torrent of water.

"Do **_not_** make me repeat myself." The owner finally heard. He turned slowly, his eyes going wide, the pupils nearly vanishing; such was the absolution of his terror. Vader drank in the emotion eagerly, letting it fuel the power of the Dark Side that crashed and frothed about him. The owner's mouth was opening and closing, trying to find an excuse. Vader had enough. Without so much as a second thought, he unleashed the Force on the man, crushing his larynx in seconds.

"Apology accepted." He felt nothing as the corpse tumbled to the ground.

The Er'Kit on the ground stirred, moaning faintly. Regaining mental clarity, Vader hesitated. He had just _saved_ a slave. An alien. By Empire definition, he had used his power to save an inferior species. But he was a Sith, and though he server the Emperor, he existed outside the jurisdiction of the Empire. Besides, the purpose of the Dark Side was to provide the power to save, and he had done just that.

That was the only reason he had done anything.

To merely demonstrate the power of the Dark Side.

The Er'Kit let out another soft, whimpering groan. Vader sighed heavily before checking that no one else was around, and knelt beside the broken slave, tentatively helping the mangled man sit up, propping him against the wall. Only then did he really get a good look at the extent of damage that had been done.

White, silvery scars tracked across the entirety of his face like thick cords, bunching and coiling about. The tender tissue around his eyes had swollen to three times its size, two bulbous, purple lumps that had forced his eyes closed. The tips of the animalistic ears had been cut off, leaving thin, leathery stumps. And that was just his face. Vader didn't need human hands to know how much blood was seeping through the back of the man's shirt. This wasn't his problem to fix. He attempted to stand, but his joints had locked into place. The nagging at the back of his head insisted that this one needed to be healed. Vader could have spit. He would focus on destroying the voice later. The Force seemed to agree with its sediments, though, and Vader had little choice but to locate wrappings and bacta patches from the 'fresher.

Sometime later, after Vader had finished wrapping the thin alien to the best of his ability, the man began to stir again. His breathing throttled in his chest, but he was alive.

"Wa...I...I...Wa..." Vader held his breath, hoping the Er'Kit would finish before he heard the respirator.

"Wa..ter..." The man finally managed to cough out.

Later, Vader would deny that he had retrieved a small glass of water from the 'fresher for the alien.

The man drank thirstily, before letting his head sink back against the wall. For a long while, there was only the noise of the boy's laboured breathing and the hiss of Vader's respirator.

The man began to giggle, the sound haunted and strained.

"Dar... Va...der.." A wheezing chuckle. A string of colourful Huttese. "Wha...'re...the odds..." Vader narrowed his eyes.

"For a slave who just had their life saved, you are most ungrateful. I find that disturbing." He hissed through the mask, a carefully worded warning. The alien only smiled weakly.

"I...I am...thankful...jus'...n'shock..." Vader considered this answer.

"Acceptable." He finally commented. He received a whisper of a laugh as a response.

"F' only...I had this...luck when...when racin'..." He mumbled faintly, catching Vader by surprise. For a long while, both men sat in silence. One struggling to recover from his wounds, the other struggling to recover his wits. Finally, a thought broke through the standstill in Vader's mind.

"What do you race?" He had meant for the question to sound inquisitive, but the vocoder distorted it to a demand. The Er'Kit didn't seem to mind and shrugged absently.

"Yer...yer jus' gonna kill me anyways... won't hurt...to tell you, right? I'm nobody...Important..." Vader was silent. The alien chuckled. "I figured...as much. I used...used to race. Before...before I became a slave. Hells...I was one o' the youngest, too."

"You still have not answered my question." Vader rumbled ominously. The man flinched.

"Pod racin'. I used to Pod Race. I lost at some major race... and this was my reward." Vader kept his silence. A self-deprecating laugh. "But hells, I deserved it...I mean, I was racin' against a hot-shot named Sebulba. But even he di-"

"You will tell me your name." Vader cut in harshly, causing the other to flinch, but chuckle faintly.

"What...I'm not fam..famous enough..yet...? M'name...is... Ody. Ody...Mandrell."

No.

No.

Nononononononononononononononono.

How in nine Sith hells...

Memories trickled past the dam he had built to hold them back. That fateful race, going toe to toe against Sebulba... The droids... The racer with the droids.

Ody Mandrell.

"I have heard of you." Vader conceded. The man's grin broadened just so, the cracked bloody lips stretching painfully.

"Ha! Imagine...imagine that... Darth...Darth Vader... has heard of...me..." Vader remained oddly quiet, unsure what to do in his current situation. The Dark Side urged him to silence the slave, a remnant of his old life. But at the same time, he had just used the power to save the man's life. He could not kill him now. Vader stood.

"You are free now, I have seen to that." Ody turned his head towards him, his emotions flooding over Vader.

Confusion, shock, suspicion, angst...

"If you would like to try to attend to the corpses, that is within your jurisdiction." He quipped drily. Ody opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened again.

"Oh."

Vader turned and crossed the threshold to the door before pausing. He turned his head to the side, as if contemplating something.

"Perhaps another go at the Boonta Eve Classic might heed better results."

And with that he strode out the door, leaving a very confused Ody Mandrell in his wake.

For the life of him, Vader could not figure out what had prompted him to say that.

* * *

_Please review! Thanks for reading!_


	6. Part I: Six

**Author's Note: **Like I promised, the gaps are becoming smaller...but are still gaps! So, bear with me, this will get better and more fluid as time goes on... but for now, there are still gaps! I'm sorry! But, it's for the good of the story, so please, once again, hang in there! It will get better!

**Alderaan Girl:** Thank you! I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

**ILDV:** Thank you very much! And just a random guess, but does 'ILDV' stand for 'I Love Darth Vader'? c:

**PinkRangerV:** Thank you so much! The advice you gave is mostly to thank for the improvement, so I owe you a huge thank you!

**IntelEwok:** Thank you! I'm glad you think so, I'm trying really hard to make the struggle seem reasonable. I am pretty iffy on this chapter, so advice on this one would be amazing!

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**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything!

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Six

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I was attempting to get some sleep in the hyperbaric chamber, when the breath was knocked from me so I could neither rise nor think. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a distinctly familiar voice was talking, telling me how I was going to be the catalyst for Luke's death if I turned him in to the Emperor. He would be a prisoner in his own body, like me. Every ounce of Dark Side power would only serve to reinforce the hell I would be damning him to live in. His voice was calm and without deception, as though it was something that had already happened, as if my own son was already lost and dead to me. Then I lost myself in darkness and a roaring noise.

* * *

The search of Er'Kit had yielded results, but hardly the crushing blow that Vader had been hoping for. The computer system did indeed exist, but the only information it contained was outdated by years, listing only some of the locations of Rebel fleets and hideouts in the Outer Rim, and a few locations mixed in the Core Worlds. Though outdated, it was information that could be utilized. After hours of fruitless searching, a pattern began to emerge. The Rebellion unwittingly chose their bases in a pattern. Their primary choice would be on an often forested moon or planet, one lacking substantial populations. After that, their secondary base would be to a desolate, nearly lifeless planet or moon, their third move being to one in the Core Worlds; heavily populated and teeming with Imperials. Hiding in plain sight, Vader supposed. A smart, but futile tactic. The logs had last been updated two years prior, when the majority of the Alliance had last been on Er'Kit. Judging by the information, the Rebellion changed locations approximately every five standard months, leaving the only conclusion that the Rebellion was now somewhere in the Core Worlds. That drastically narrowed the field they would be searching. The Emperor would be pleased with his work.

The Emperor.

A flash of an unknown feeling pulsed through his system.

The Emperor wanted him to bring Luke to him. The Emperor wanted **_his_** son. Vader wasn't quite sure he was willing to relinquish that which belonged to him so easily. Rather that continuing to serve under the heel of the Emperor, he and his son would rule the galaxy and protect the inhabitants from the Alliance. Hopefully, they would be able to destroy them. His son knew the inner workings of the Rebellion, after all. No, the Emperor would never get his shrivelled hands on his son.

His lips quirked into a smirk.

That infamous urge to rebel against authority still remained embedded in his system. Granted, it had remained dormant for some twenty years, but now... Now it seemed as though –

Darkness surged around him, drowning out the thoughts. His time had come to overthrow the Emperor, as was the way of the Sith. The apprentice learns all he can, craving the power the master has. And when the time has come, kills and overthrows his master, to become the master himself. And with that right would come the responsibility of his own apprentice.

Luke.

And together, they would rule the galaxy, as father and son.

Whether Luke liked it or not.

The Emperor's time would come soon, that was assured. He would die by Vader's hands or from his own illness, which ravaged his body - a parting gift from Mace Windu, all those years ago. Vader couldn't stop the spiteful sneer that flashed across his face at the thought of the condescending Jedi Master. Yes, he had been powerful, a force to be reckoned with for sure, but he had been so narrow-minded, his thoughts so clouded by a dying code from a dead era that he couldn't see the Sith Lord who paraded about in front of him. Pathetic fool.

Vader let out a heavy sigh, leaning his helmeted head against a cybernetic fist. His neck, one of the few limbs that remained human, ached from countless hours of gazing at endless screens of Rebel schematics and plans. He regretted the action at once, though, for the vocoder distorted the exhale into a violently loud hiss, startling the nearby mechanics and machine techs. Vader dismissed their fright; hardly acknowledging the normal thrill such power gave him. The rampant thoughts that raged through his skull distracted him more than was necessary for his work. Since his discovery of Luke, his thoughts had become more volatile and random. Bouts of conflict struck on him at –

No. Not conflict.

Though he had decided that it was time to overthrow his master, it was still necessary to maintain the guise of obedience and humility. Doing so included doing hours of menial work for the Emperor, finding pointless information that Palpatine probably already knew. Of course, he had a fairly good idea why his master made him engage in such pointless activities.

It was a power kick for the old man.

Forcing the being who had formerly been the "Hero with No Fear" and "The Chosen One" to abide by his every whim and struggle to become something more than a Sith apprentice was how Palpatine got his amusement. Granted, he was powerful indeed. The murderer of worlds, the destroyer of rebellion, Vader knew he exuded cold, hard power. Lips pulling back into a wolfish smile, Vader chuckled humourlessly. It was blatantly obvious how hilarious the situation was, really. Anakin Skywalker, soon to be a Sith Master. Right hand of the Emperor. Currently doing paperwork. But, soon his master would no longer be able to keep him busy with such pointless trivialities. Soon, he would have killed the decrepit thing. Another cold chuckle. He knew he would enjoy watching the light fade from those sickly yellow eyes. More laughter. Yeah, everything was definitely proceeding as the shrivelled old prune had foreseen.

His blood turned to ice.

If everything had been going as he had predicted... had the creep known what would happen? Did he know that he would turn into little more than a droid? Did he –

Vader slammed shields down on the train of thought, destroying it. He needed to purge this irritating voice from his system before he continued making rash and trivial decisions, like the choice he had made on Er'Kit. For the life of him, he still couldn't fathom what had compelled him to save the slave in the manner which had had. And the anger...

There had been such a purity, almost a righteousness to his anger. It had hardly been the corrupted, seething mass of darkness that normally flanked him. Rather... it simply was. It wasn't the Dark Side, it felt to be more of...just...

The Force.

It was as though, just maybe, he had inherited a hatred of slavery, as well. That maybe, just maybe he didn't believe in the subjugation of another being. After, that was what a Sith apprentice wa-

Vader slammed a gloved fist on the desk before him, rising quickly and striding to his hyperbaric chamber. Those silly thoughts needed to be destroyed. When the mask finally came off his face, he used the force to turn off the lights, finding peace in the void that followed.

Vader let his thoughts turn inward. Somewhere, deep within him, there was something that was causing friction, turmoil in his thoughts, inhibiting the power of the Dark Side that he should have. So he delved into the memories and thoughts that ran rampant in his head, methodically sifting through them, trying to find the source of the rift in him.

He ended up deep within the recesses of his mind. He was somewhere familiar, somewhere he had been before, a lifetime ago...

Somewhere like...

Coruscant...

The Dark Side wrapped around him, trying to comfort him as he found himself on the steps of the destroyed Jedi temple. Apprehension boiled inside him. He was almost... almost...worried about facing this place.

But that was nonsense.

Nothing frightened Darth Vader.

The debris crunched under his feet as he walked from the main foyer into the bowels of the decrepit building. Flaking paint fluttered to the ground, cracked columns trembled with each resounding footstep. His body dragged him along a path he took in his dreams...and nightmares. It was drawing closer now, the place he had tried to fully convert to the power of the Dark Side. It was drawing closer and...

And then he saw him.

Standing alone, surrounded by the corpses of the younglings.

Tall, broad shoulders slumped, shaking with hardly audible sobs as he knelt on the ground. He wore the standard Jedi tunic, a lightsabre belt strapped around his waist, but there was no lightsabre.

_"This weapon is your life!"_ Vader ignored the voice that played in his head, unbidden, and sucked in a breath.

The man heard him.

Whirled around.

Tears glittered in his eyes, reflecting his tumultuous feelings.

Pain, despair, sorrow...

But no anger.

"You killed me. You killed me here." He spat suddenly. "You killed me, and then you killed everyone I ever cared about!" Vader scoffed.

"Do not be so foolish. I have hardly killed you." He rumbled back at the man, wanting desperately to strangle the apparition. The man returned his mocking laugh.

"Really? Is that what you think? That _this_" He waved his arms around, indicating the bodies. "is '_hardly killing'_? Tell me then; what was it called when you burned on Mustafar, '_lightly tanned'_?" The man threw his hands up in exasperation, pacing restlessly. "You can't even deny that you killed everyone who was ever precious to me. Even if I tried to stop you. Oh, Force, you murdered Padmé, but that was hardly enough for you! You had to go and kill Obi-Wan, too!" Vader glowered at the man.

"Do not presume to use that tone with me, Skywalker." His former self stiffened, eyes blazing with barely contained emotions.

"And now you want to kill my son, too. Don't you dare touch him. He is mine." Vader immediately felt the wrath flood him, feeling it writhe in the air around him. The man didn't flinch, but only gave a mirthless smile. "You cannot deny that. He is my son, not yours. You have no right to claim him, for you are _not_ Anakin Skywalker." Vader scowled. The bastard was using his own words against him! But instead, he smiled cruelly.

"Very well, Skywalker. I shall prove to you that you are far from dead. You will be let out from this temple, just enough to see what I am doing with the powers that you could never have. And you will watch as I turn _your_ son to the Dark Side to be **_my_** apprentice." Anakin's face turned an odd pale green colour, but reverted in the next moment to its normal hue. He shook his head with a sad chuckle.

"Think what you want, _Vader,_" He sneered at the name, his face contorting into something indescribable. "but Luke knows I have been caged by you. He is coming to free me." Something clicked in Vader and he let the Dark Side crash forth, swirling around and crushing Skywalker's throat. But he didn't die. Merely doubled over, coughing, hacking, gasping for breath.

"I-If you...you destroy me... You...you will never have Luke." Vader froze. That wasn't... that couldn't be true. Luke had accepted that he was...

That was incorrect. Luke had hardly accepted that he was his father. He had recoiled. Choosing death over him. Only wanting Anakin Skywalker. Not Darth Vader. Snarling, he released his former self from his choke hold. Anakin lay back on the ground, gasping for breath. Vader turned and began striding away, ignoring the screams of the Dark Side to kill the man.

"I will not be kept here, Vader." His voice rasped, but the tone left no doubts about what he meant. Vader hesitated for half of a second, before stalking from the temple, leaving Anakin behind.

He was not Anakin Skywalker. That name had no meaning to him. Not anymore.

* * *

Vader opened his eyes with a start. His comlink was ringing incessantly. He punched a button on the dash and waited until the helmet sealed over his scarred visage before turning the com on.

"L-Lord Vader, the Emperor has demanded you make contact with him, milord." Admiral Piett sounded nervous, frightened.

"Very well, Admiral. You have my thanks for alerting me." A long pause, Vader could almost feel the man's shock.

"Ah, yes, milord." Smirking faintly, Vader rose from the chair and left to meet with the Emperor.

They would see, he decided, who Luke would choose.

The helpless familial ties that could never help him, or the strength of the Dark Side to protect everyone he cared for.

Yes, they would see.

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_Please review! Thank you for reading!_


	7. Part I: Seven

**Author's Note:** Finally! The chapter most of you have been waiting for! We get our first glimpse of Luke Skywalker here! Okay, maybe not first, but the first legitimate conversation involving Luke! I hope that he is up to your standards! Also, as far the scene with "Anakin" and Vader, there is method to that madness, and all will be explained in time. The reasoning is a bit unorthodox, but justified, and I think you will like it quite a bit! Please keep reading and reviewing! Your reviews keep me posting! Thank you!

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**Froovygirl:** Thank you! I hope you keep reading! I look forward to your reviews when I post, hehehe. C:

**Alderaan Girl**: Thank you! There's heavy symbolism that I use in a lot of it, I think you caught that, though. C:

**Queen Naberrie:** I'm glad you enjoy it so much! Thank you for reading!

**PinkRangerV:** You are a dream! Thank you so much for all the tips and advice! It's so very helpful! I think you'll enjoy the direction I take the Anakin/Vader thing, as it's... different. Let's just say Vader is more than slightly desperate. C;

**ILDV: **Hehehe, subtle genius. C:

**IntelEwok:** Brilliant and perceptive! I'm impressed that you figured it out based off the minimal clues that I gave! I'm glad you like it though! While I do think the Anakin/Vader are separate ones are interesting... he wilfully chose the Dark Side, and that's something that's often forgotten. So! I hope you keep reading!

**Disclaimer:** I'm not affiliated with Disney, and thus, do not own anything!

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Seven

* * *

The window in my room is so small and high up that even when we are docked, I still can get no light from it. That is why, I suppose, it feels like a prison; it may have even been built to be as such.

* * *

The door to the audience chamber sealed shut, and an inexplicable sense of dread rose up within Vader. Palpatine rarely requested a personal audience so soon after briefing his apprentice. Ignoring the protests the remnants of his limbs made, he knelt before the holographic image that fizzled into existence. The ire that radiated from the projection was unmistakeable. A deep set frown scarred the gnarled features, the jowls hanging freely on either side of the mouth, spittle glistening on the thin lips.

"Lord Vader, I am to understand that you have failed to bring Skywalker to me?" Vader cringed internally, tightening his mental shields.

"Yes, my master." The thick darkness that hung in the air was palpable. Suffocating.

"You have failed me, my apprentice, and do not think for an instance that I take kindly to such failures." The old man's lips had twisted into a sneer, his words hissing through the rotted teeth and blackened gums. Vader lowered his head in silence. Experience was a harsh teacher, and Vader had learned well. Palpatine paused his tirade for a moment, a cruel smirk carving across the canyon like face.

"Come now, old friend. I know you have a...connection to the boy." Vader's blood turned to ice.

"I am unsure of what you are referring to, my master." The reaction was immediate. The lips pulled back into a snarl, the darkness became suffocating.

"Don't be a fool, Vader!" The clicking of his teeth was like the mandibles of an Acklay. "I know you can speak with the boy. Break his shields, find him, and bring him before me!" Vader hesitated. One moment too long.

Pain pulsed through his veins, his wires and circuitry hissing at the charge that surged through them, the little blood he had left boiling at the heat of the Sith Lightning. Vader let out a soft grunt, one hand slamming against the durasteel floor in an attempt to steady himself. Palpatine tisked, his features contorted into a snarl. The air around Vader sparked, hissing furiously with the wrath of the Dark Side. A twitch of his lip.

And there was only pain.

The fires of Mustafar had burned his skin, sure. But this was inside. This fizzled and seared the walls of his veins, the chambers of his heart, the very lining of his organs. His other hand was against the floor. He didn't know how. It just was. To support him. To stop the pain.

It would end in a moment. It always did.

But it didn't.

Dim laughter rang out in the back of his skull. A violent intrusion against the shields of his mind.

_NO! HE CANNOT HAVE LUKE!_

The thought roared in his mind, his shields sealing shut against the probe of the Emperor. He could feel his body falling apart. His breathing was slight, ragged, his nerves were frying under the assault.

But his mind had never been so clear.

Somewhere there was a dim realization that he would do anything for his son, but it was drowned out in the roar of unconsciousness.

He came to only moments later, finding himself against the floor, the stoic image of his master wavering before him.

"Rise, my apprentice. This is your last warning before I take more drastic measures." Vader struggled to a sitting position, ignoring the screams of protest from his desecrated limbs.

"Y-Yes, my master." He felt bile rising up in the back of his throat. The hologram faded and Vader struggled to his feet, stumbling forth, colliding painfully with the bulkhead. A grunt. He grit his teeth. A step. Another. And then another. Slowly straightening his back, he forged his way to his personal quarters, waiting as the throngs of officers parted before him. The aching in his spine and shoulders was nearly unbearable. If he didn't get to his chambers, he may stumble in front of his crew. That would be...unfortunate.

"Excuse me, milord? Ah, yes, Lord Vader, you see –"

"What is it, Lieutenant?" He barked, enraged at being interrupted. The man visibly flinched, cowering away from his commander. Blinking rapidly, he wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his palm.

"A-Ah, you see, w-we have intercepted transmissions from what we believe to be the flagship of the Rebel fleet –"  
"Do with it what you will, I will see to your work later. For now, I shall be in my personal quarters, and I expect that I will _not_ be disturbed." As painful as it was, Vader raised his arm gesturing menacingly at the trembling man, who swallowed and nodded in fright, his eyes fixed on the gloved finger pointed at his chest. Vader let out a heavy sigh, grateful the vocoder couldn't pick up such sounds and walked away. The sick feeling in his stomach grew in intensity. By the time he reached the hyperbaric chamber, he was on the verge of vomiting. His hand fumbled desperately with the switch for the claw to remove his helmet. After a long silence, the familiar sound of the gears. A snap. A hiss. The helmet had just cleared his head, the mask had just fallen from his face and the contents of his stomach were on the floor. Not that there was much besides acid. Gasping raggedly, he could not, for the life of him, imagine what had brought on such an onslaught. Rarely, if ever, had he become sick after being...reprimanded... for his inadequacies. He wasn't given time to contemplate it further as bile surged in his throat again, the rank, acrid stench filling the normally pristine chamber.

_Sithspit._

Too weak and worn to bother with cleaning, Vader sank back in his chair, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh. Sleep overtook him instantly.

He didn't dream at all.

* * *

Sometime later, he found himself in a state of half consciousness again, drifting aimlessly without cause, without reason. It felt like...

...the strangest sense of déjà vu...

And at once he knew exactly why. Through their weak, strained bond, he could feel Luke, he could feel his son.

_Oh, Force, if he had to suffer with me..._ For once, Vader didn't silence the thought. Coaxing Luke to the Dark Side would require patience and the illusion of benevolence. After all, it was the very method Palpatine had used some twenty years prior. Carefully, tentatively, Vader stretched out along the link, gently brushing against Luke's mind as to not frighten him. He could feel the boy stiffen, he could feel the rejection coming.

_/Luke, my son, listen to me. Come with me. Come with me, and together, we can defeat the Emperor and rule, side by side./_ There was a long silence. His son was hesitating, frightened. But he was listening. And that was enough.

_/We have been separated for twenty years, I did not know that you had survived, it is only right that you should join me, join me as my son. For you are my flesh and blood, whether it pleases you or not. And as your father, I know it to be your destiny to rule the galaxy with me! You must trust me on this, Luke. I understand I have given you little reason to do so thus far, but I do not lie, and I have not lied to you yet-/_

_/Why is there such pain in you?/_ The question was abrupt, out of the blue, and caught Vader completely unaware. So startling, it was, that his shields dropped nearly completely, and a modicum of the agony he was in flooded across their bond before he could stop it.

_/I apologize, my son. My master was...displeased that I had not acquired you and that I would not contact you in his pre -/ _A long pause. _/What troubles me should not trouble you, my son. It is far too late for me./_

* * *

On the other end of the galaxy, Luke sat down harshly (more like fell on his bum). The immense pain that had surged across from Vader was just...unfathomable. The sheer agony that had ricocheted through his small frame in that instant... How could he live like that? The pain of losing an arm was hardly anything in – what was he saying? Darth Vader may be his father... but all the same... he still froze Han, tortured Leia... cut off his hand...

...what kind of father would do that?

But his words...

Luke's mind was spinning. His master... had hurt him? All because... he wouldn't reach out to Luke? If he didn't know better, he would say it was the actions of a father defending his children.

Shocked laughter tore from him at that. Darth Vader, protecting him? The very notion was absurd. Darth Vader was the embodiment of evil, he was without a conscious, without mercy, without any...

But was he really?

He apologized for allowing Luke to feel the pain, he had hidden him from the Emperor, even though...something had happened to harm him.

Shaking his head, Luke stood, bumping into his astromech. The little droid squealed in indignation at being disturbed.

"Sorry Artoo! Didn't see you there!" And indignant beep. Luke chuckled softly.

"I know, I've got my head in the clouds, again." He sighed heavily. "It's just, do you think that there could be any good in him? I just... I don't know what to think anymore. He _is _my father after all. And he used to be a good man." The droid cooed softly, bumping against his hand. A hint of a smile tweaked at his lips.

"He tried to protect me, you know." He whispered to the droid, afraid to say the words aloud, almost afraid to think about the implications. Artoo shuddered before letting out a low, sad whistle.

"I don't know, Artoo. He might not be able to be saved... but... he is my father. I have to at least try." His mouth felt dry as he said the words. It wouldn't be easy, trying to face the faceless terror who had cleaved his hand from his body without hesitation. It wouldn't be easy trying to find the hero hidden in the monster.

But he owed it to his father to try.

Carefully, he reached out to the presence he knew to be Vader. It was now or never.

_/I won't give up on you, father. I'm going to save you./_

* * *

_Thank you for reading! Please review!_


	8. Part I: Eight

**Author's Note: **I hope I did Luke justice! And a further note, I am so incredibly honoured to have some of the more 'famous', so to speak, writers on Fanfiction following and _reviewing_ this story! Gosh, you guys make me so happy! Namely **QueenNaberrie** and **Treenahasthaal**! Like... you two are some of the most favourited authors in the Star Wars section! I am so blown away! And of course, the continual and unending support from the rest of you is just amazing! Like **ILDV, weirdsquirrelgirl, Amenofis** and **Alderaan Girl**! You guys are always so supportive, you keep me going! Even the little comments bring a smile to my face! And of course, **froovygirl** who gives some of the most extensive feedback and thoughts on every chapter, **IntelEwok** for being so objective and presenting such awesome ideas and viewpoints! And **PinkRangerV** for helping out sooooo much with all the advice and tips on writing this! Gosh golly, I couldn't do this without all you faithful reviewers! So, I guess in a strange way, this chapter is thanks to you guys! I was getting pretty low on motivation, and lo and behold, eight reviews for the last chapter! I was blown away! Gave me the motivation to get this one cranked out for you. C;

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

* * *

Eight

* * *

As soon as I left my room, my pains, which I had not perceived while I was in contact with Luke, came strongly back upon me. The shock which Luke's question had caused, even, was deadened for a while, though my wits became very sharp and clear. I was determined to find Luke and train him to help me in my fight against the Emperor, unless the Emperor killed me first.

* * *

There was only silence in the hyperbaric chamber. Silence only disturbed by the soft rasping of Vader's breathing. His throat ached and burned from the hydrochloric acid that stung his throat from his bout of vomiting, the gaping wounds on his skull oozed thickly in distress. That hardly scratched the surface of the damage that had been done. Half the circuitry on his left side was damaged, several of the wires melted and fused together. He could only thank the Force that he still had control and mobility of his right arm. He would need it for the repairs he would have to do. The memory of the time he had collapsed, unable to move in front of the now Admiral Piett. Shockingly, the man had simply helped him to an isolated med bay and went to work, repairing his arms without a word. To his credit, he had never spoken of the incident again.

_I won't give up on you, father._

Vader felt his eyes squeeze shut, a pathetic attempt to erase the boy's last words from his mind. Anakin Skywalker was dead. That had already been established. He hesitated saying that. Perhaps not dead, but caged, trapped, and isolated, far away from having any semblance of control. Skywalker had been powerless, unable to stop Padmé from dying, unable to alter the events of his nightmares. But Darth Vader had indeed altered those events with the power of the Dark Side. _Yes, by killing her yourself._ The taunting voice snarked from the back of his mind. _You certainly __**saved**__ her, didn't you, you brute?_ He hissed in displeasure, silencing the thoughts in his mind, aided by the Dark Side. Closing his eyes, he drank in the dark power that flowed through him, clearing his mind and seeping into his weary joints and aching bones. Enough of that. Those kinds of thoughts only distracted him from the tasks at hand, from the will of the Emperor. He had changed the future. He had altered everything. The Dark Side had given him the power to do so. She...she only died because Anakin Skywalker lived. He hadn't fully immersed himself in the Dark Side. He hadn't grasped it fully, and...

The Dark Side tightened around him, clinging to his skin, nails digging in, begging him to straighten his thoughts. Pleading.

_I'm going to save you._

A ragged sigh. The Dark Side curled closer, whispering polluted thoughts of power, corrupted ideas of –

Wait. Since when did he think like that?

With a strangled snarl, he slammed his fist against the side of the chair. There was nothing to save. It was simply too late. Far too late for any form of help. There was nothing that could be done. Something clenched inside him. Bright blue eyes and blonde hair flashed across his mind, youthful innocence and a naive determination. _Oh, my son..._ The Dark Side slaughtered the thought the second it arose. No. No! It was his son who needed saving. Saving from the corrupted teachings of Obi-Wan Kenobi. A sneer split Vader's face, scarred tissue contorting sickeningly. He spit. Curse the old fool. Tainting his heir and future apprentice with delusions of Jedi grandeur. It would take effort to undo all that dama –

_I'm going to save you._

The helmet sealed with a hiss, silencing all thoughts. Only the Emperor's orders remained.

Find Luke. And turn him to the Dark Side.

Like a wraith, Vader strode through the endless corridors of the cold ship, cape fluttering in the air behind him. Fear, once again, was palpable in the air, radiating from the crew members as the death incarnate strode past, cold, hard power oozing from the dark clad figure. Seas of officers, mechanics, clones and pilots parted before him, shrinking away from the plague of anger that trailed behind him. Footsteps clanged across a silent bridge. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"Admiral Piett...do you have any leads on possible locations for hideouts of the Rebellion?" Sweat dripped off the man's pale brow, his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

"N-No, milord, we have narrowed the search considerably and –"

"Did you not pay attention to the report I gave you, Admiral?"

"Ah, yes, m-milord Vader. We have taken several ecumenopoleis off the list, your research was most helpful, milord. W-We have eliminated Carratos, Alaskan, Humbarine, Jutrand, as well as Nar Shadda, Trantor and Skako from the list. Our most viable options remaining at this point are Axxila, Denon, Karideph and, oddly enough, Coruscant as well. We are continuing t-to narrow the search, even a-as we speak."

Mechanical inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

"Your work is commendable, Admiral, but see to it that three of the four choices are eliminated. I advise you exercise haste, Piett. I am only so lenient. Skywalker _must_ be found, it has become our single most important priority. Do _not_ fail me, Admiral. I assume you will not be fond of the consequences of doing so." Piett blinked rapidly, before nodding fervently.

"Y-Yes, milord! Of course, milord." Vader turned to look out the viewport, gloved hands curling around the rail. From where he stood, hovering over his underlings, Piett watched his commander thoughtfully. The man's tall frame was rife with tension, his shoulders taut, his joints locked. The steady breathing echoed over the heads of the crew, frantically working on their holoterminals. It hit him then.

Darth Vader was concerned.

Worried.

Worried about Skywalker?

A nagging feeling that there was a connection clawed at the back of his brain. Something about that name... Skywalker... He couldn't place it and turned his attention back to the screens.

"Milord, milord, we have found the location of the base!" Vader snapped up, pushing away from the rail and whirling to face the Admiral.

"Where are they?" He barked, desperation tearing through him. The man shifted, his frame trembling just so.

"W-we believe they are hidden somewhere in the heart of Coruscant, Lord Vader." Vader ground his teeth together. Coruscant, along with Mustafar and Tatooine, were places he sought to avoid at all costs. Luke had given him little choice.

Admiral," Vader faced down Piett, his gloved hand pointing into the man's face. "pray that you are correct." The man nodded weakly, before straightening.

"I am positive, milord." Vader felt a faint smile tug at his tattered lips. He inclined his head just so.

"Very well. I shall return shortly, after the rebels have been dealt with. I am taking a battalion of troopers with me, I expect you will have little trouble handling the _Executor_ in my absence."

"Of course, milord."

* * *

The flight to Coruscant was short enough, the heavy traffic of the Imperial Centre's airspace gave him more than enough cover to escape the detection or suspicion of the Rebellion.

_"No loose wire jokes?"_

_"Did I say anything?"_

_"Obi-Wan, may the Force be with you._

_"Goodbye old friend. May the Force be with you."_

_"You have allowed this Dark Lord to twist you mind, until now, until now you've become the very thing you swore to destroy!"_

_"Don't lecture me, Obi-Wan! I see through the lies of the Jedi!_

_"Don't make me kill you."_

_"You will not take her from me!"_

_"Your anger and lust for power have already done that!"_

_"I hate you!"_

_"You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!"_

The memories flickered across his mind, an endless reel of a life long forgotten.

_Obi-Wan..._ The momentary sliver of remorse that slipped through the cage was smothered by furious rage. Kenobi was dead! He had been killed by Vader. The only task that remained was to exterminate the foolish ideals that he had planted in his son.

Ah, Coruscant. The single most despicable place in the galaxy. Perhaps second to Tatooine. All the same.

The modified TIE fighter ghosted down on the landing pad. The time had come to smoke the Rebel Alliance from their hole. But first, to find the hole, one would need to follow a fox to the hole. Vader hefted himself from the craft, mechanized limbs absorbing the impact of the jump from the cockpit. Flanked by storm troopers, Vader crossed the landing pad and entered the spaceport. It was a matter of seconds before the entire building had descended into a terrified silence.

"Commander, search the occupants of this building and determine if there are any with ties to the Rebellion. If there are, arrest them and report directly to me. I will..." Vader paused, tilting his head to the side. "There is a disturbance in the Force...I will be investigating this. Contact me on my comlink in the event of the discovery of a rebel. I expect you to leave me be in any other instance." The clone snapped up and saluted smartly.

"Yes, milord!" Vader turned brusquely and strode off, oblivious to the cries and begging for mercy that engulfed him as the clones began to move. The Force was tugging him along, moving him through the complex, through winding tunnels and endless halls. He followed, silent, save for his perpetual rasping breaths. Deeper, deeper into the tunnels of Coruscant, leaving the spaceport, entering the darkened slums of the town. Here, no one cared about Darth Vader. Here, death was a favourable option to living. Vader strode along, unperturbed by the homeless and street filth that hung against the durasteel walls.

The Force called. And still he followed.

Through garbage riddled alleyways and speeder overrun junkyards.

And suddenly, the Force went silent.

Vader finally took note of his surroundings. One of the more risqué areas of Coruscant, he stood outside the door of a cantina, hookers and dealers lurking around in the shadows of the building, the cantina itself overshadowed by the towering remnant of the...Senate building. Vader scowled. The Force was mocking him. Reminding him of his failures. He was about to turn, leave that haunted, forsaken place when the Force whispered to him yet again, urging him to enter the cantina. Cursing softly in Huttese, he complied.

The air stuck to his suit, heavy and daunting as he waded through the crowd. He was unnoticeable over the din of the music and blending in with the dimmed lights. The place was raunchy, overrun by degenerate beings of all kinds, some loafing over the bar counter, some busy having open intercourse, other smoking death sticks, among other products along the wall. If he could smell, he knew the stench of alcohol, among other Coruscanti "specialties" would be overpowering. He took a step forward, then another. A nearby Twi'lek bumped against him, her delirious eyes batting up at him as she giggled drunkenly.

"You're a s..siiiillly lookin' man! Y...You look like you...you could use s-some" she hiccupped loudly. "fun! With..meeeee!" She tumbled forward against him. Vader's lip curled as he cursed the Force yet again. Carefully prying the Twi'lek off his circuit board, he unceremoniously dumped her on the floor, stepped over her, and continued sifting through the mass of people, trying to determine what the Force had intended for him to find. A cluttered bunch of gangsters huddled in the back of the cantina, more than likely trading black market goods. Under any normal circumstance, Vader would rip them apart on sight. Such activities were forbidden in the Empire, and such actions being done so blatantly in the capital disgraced the nobility of the Empire. Something inside him, deep down, scoffed at that statement. He silenced it. Now wasn't the time to draw attention to himself, no, he needed cover in order to find Luke. The gangsters would remain alive...for now. He swore to himself that he would kill the next gangsters he saw as retribution. He continued his hunt.

And then time froze.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Vader desperately fumbled with his rampant thoughts.

Inhale.

Exhale.

For the second time in a matter of weeks, a face from a deceased past made an appearance.

Ebe E. Endocott.

A Triffian.

And a Pod Racer.

* * *

_Cliffhanger! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review, your reviews keep me posting!_


	9. Part I: Nine

**Author's Note:** I think you guys are going to love Vader's reactions in this chapter. C: Remember, this chapter is going to be _pretty_ important, even if it's only through subtle actions. All the character's actions in this chapter are very deliberate and the way they act and their actions are purposeful. Think about the implications of this, dear readers. C; And! This is a _very_ long chapter, compared to what I normally right, but hopefully, this is the new norm for the chapters. So! I hope you enjoy, I put a **lot** of effort into this one! And! Thank you to **Alderaan Girl, QueenNaberrie, Treenahasthaal, IntelEwok, ILDV, froovygirl and PinkRangerV ** for reviewing! You guys, as always, are the ones who keep me posting! Goodness gracious your reviews are wonderful! And they give me wonderful ideas for the next chapters, so please keep it up! C:

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

Nine

* * *

I was soon able to get some time to my own to venture off and take a break. I did this without my master...Palpatine's...knowledge, for if he knew that I wasn't recovering from that recent disagreement, he'd surely send me off to find more rebels.

* * *

The Triffian bartender busied himself by bustling around the numerous customers that drunkenly hung over the edges of the bar. Regardless of whether they were too intoxicated to ask for more, or were completely sober, he promptly and always refilled the numerous glasses without complaint, getting tipped generously for his efforts. He had aged significantly since the race, his large stomach even more bloated, the nasty scar stretched out. His tail was shorter, a stump at the end. The blue frills and hair that surrounded his face and hung from his arms were scraggly and somewhat mangled. Deep heavy wrinkles carved across his face, the bags under his eyes sunk into his skull. The small alien had clearly seen better days. But he was alive. And he was there. Another remnant from a dead past. Vader finally remembered how to breathe and stood for a moment, petrified by his own shock, taking in the sight of such a familiar face.

First Ody, and now... now another being who had raced in that fateful race. That race that sealed his fate, that took him from slavery and to freedom with the-

No. Enough of that.

Unbidden, his body moved of its own accord toward the busy figure, his trepidation growing with each step.

Closer.

Closer.

Pushing through drunken smugglers and stoned bounty hunters.

Closer.

Stepping over sleeping bums and filthy wretches.

And closer still.

He was a foot away when he stopped, unable to move any further, unable to wrench himself away. In the back of his mind, the Dark Side was hissing, screeching for him to end the creature's life. His hand lifted, the dark powers of the Force waiting for him to clench his fist. His fingers twitched, beginning to close.

"Heya, bartender! How's the family?"

Vader froze.

Ebe turned to face the alien that had spoken, a grin splitting his face, a deep chuckle rumbling from his heavy paunch.

"They're great, the missus hates it when I work late like this. We've got three little ones who are constantly taking up her time." Another hearty laugh. "My shift ends in minutes, though! Boy, will she be happy to see me!" The Dark Side fizzled away, leaving only a hollow ache. His hand dropped limply to his side.

No, that wasn't right.

He couldn't just let him go!

The conflict boiled in his veins. The anger roared to life, his blood pounded in his ears.

_Kill him, kill him, kill him!_

His hand lifted again.

"Good ta' hear it, Ebe!" The alien leaned closer to the Triffian, a conspiring look on his face. "I heard you got another on the way!" The anger choked to a standstill. The bartender laughed louder.

"I do! A son!" The loving smile that engulfed his face made something tighten painfully in Vader's chest. His hand trembled, the weight in his chest increased tenfold.

_A son..._

He couldn't move.

Couldn't breathe.

"The missus and I are so excited to have him. After three daughters, a son's a relief!" Another chuckle. "He'll join me here, bartending, since his sisters can't." He was almost glowing with happiness, his smile heart-wrenching. "A son!"

Faces clogged his mind. A smiling Jedi Master, a young, stoic padawan, a Toydarian owner, a loving mother,

an angel.

_Oh, Force..._

Vader took a step back.

Another.

He turned, shoving people from his way, pushing through the crowd.

Out, he had to get out. The blood was roaring in his ears, drowning out all coherent thoughts. There were bodies in his way. He shoved them aside.

Pushed the door open.

And ran.

He could not stay. He could not stay there. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath until gasping, desperate breaths ripped from him, trying to fuel his weary body. No. NO! It wasn't fair! It just...it just wasn't fair! How could that...that bartender have his son's support assured to him, and he, Darth Vader, had nothing? His mechanized legs wailed in protest, but he ignored it, pushing his body harder. He was still too close.

_Son._

_Children._

**_Family._**

Battered cybernetics gave out, his legs crumpling beneath him, sending him crashing into a durasteel wall, gloved fingers scrabbling at the glossy surface for support.

No... no...

The Dark Side hissed and crackled around him, clawing at his mind, hurting, ripping, tearing at his shields. Before he realized what he was doing, he was fighting, pushing against the prying fingers.

It hurt. Force, it hurt!

A choked cry tore from behind the mouth, turning into a warped garble. The Dark Side shrieked, snapping him from his fright and he caught himself, dropping his shields, allowing himself to feel the power flowing through him, giving him a modicum of relief from the agony that tore through his body. And let go. He slipped down the wall, crumbling to the ground. The area was deserted, void of any life, a rare occurrence on Coruscant. And he allowed himself to lay there, motionless on the ground, his circuitry sparking and glitching, his mind empty, his heart dead. A ragged sigh pulled from his frame.

_Luke...my son..._

_..._

_...forgive me..._

* * *

Sighing in frustration, Luke Skywalker threw his hands in the air, trying to order his thoughts. Admiral Ackbar, Han, and even Leia had all insisted that he stay with them on Coruscant, but on the other hand, the Force was whispering to him, urging him to leave the planet and go...to the outer rim... to Dagobah. Again. He knew he would need to face Master Yoda at some point and admit his failure. If only he had listened... If only he had listened to the masters' urgings. Things might not have gone so terribly wrong, Leia, Chewie and Han... He shook his head. It wasn't the time for that. He had to talk to Yoda and ask him for the truth, and admit his failure as well. And ask Ben why he had lied.

Ben...

Giving off a weary sigh, he slumped down on his cot.

"Why, Ben? Why did you lie to me? Why...why did you try and make me...kill my father...?" He choked on the word 'father'. Untamed fear bubbled to the surface as the horrifying black mask surfaced in his mind's eye. Darth Vader still terrorized him, still plagued his nightmares. Luke clenched his teeth against the wave of grief that threatened to overtake him. His father robbed him of his hand, stole his best friend from him, and tortured his other close friend. But at the same time... he had protected him from the Emperor... But that spark paled in comparison to the damage he had done. He shook his head and shifted his attention to his closet. His flight suit hung separate from the rest of his clothes, separate from his commander's uniform and the rest of his clothes. Separate from everything else. His mind was made up.

"C'mon, Artoo, we don't have much time."

A short while later, he and his astromech were en route for the docking bay, ready to leave. Artoo whistled softly beside him, rolling along furiously to catch up with Luke's light jog.

"I know, Artoo. They're going to have a fit when they find out I'm gone." An indignant squeak. Luke laughed softly.

"Of course, they'll miss you, too!" He patted the dome of the little droid gently. "But we have to go see Master Yoda. You know that, too, don't you?" The droid whistled softly. Hesitating only for a moment, he hopped into the cockpit of the X-Wing, warming the engine up as the crane moved his astromech into position. Giving one last regretful glance at the base, he turned his sights towards the darkened sky and took off. X-Wings were commonly known Rebellion fighter planes. The realization hit him moments after he took off, but it was far too late to turn around now. Flying out from the heart of the imperial city in a marked Rebellion fighter... Luke grimaced. Not ideal conditions, that was for sure.

But the Force was quiet, peaceful. He knew he should be concerned, but... the Force seemed to say otherwise. Gracefully slipping into the streams of traffic, he flew casually, doing his best to blend in with the legions of vehicles that swarmed around him. In the distance, the spaceport towered above the other buildings, Imperial crafts landing and departing. It would be suicide to go there. Luke quickly turned into another skylane, mingling with the other speeders before sharply pulling up and shooting through the atmosphere.

Shortly after exiting Coruscant airspace, he hit the hyperdrive, watching everything fade into streaks of white light, the stars blurring past the windowpanes, all sense of time vanishing, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts. Thoughts of the Jedi. Thoughts of his friends.

Thoughts of Vader.

Chills raced down his spine again, the recognizable hiss of the mechanical breathing filling his thoughts.

_ "The Force is with you, young Skywalker. But you are not a Jedi yet."_

Inhale.

Exhale.

_"You are beaten. It is useless to resist. Don't let yourself be destroyed as Obi-Wan did!"_

_"There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you." _

Somewhere, buried within the faceless monster was the man that had fathered him. There just had to be!

_"Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father..."_

_"No, I am your father."_

_"I have something here for you. Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough, but your uncle wouldn't allow it. He feared you might follow old Obi-Wan on some damn idealistic crusade like your father did."_

_"Your father's light sabre. This is the weapon of a Jedi Knight."_

_"He was the best star pilot in the galaxy, and a cunning warrior."_

_"And he was a good friend."_

The mask was melting. Vanishing. From a monster...to...

To...

The face was blurred, the features unclear. But he was tall, with broad shoulders and an athletic physique.

Jedi robes and lightsabre.

Anakin Skywalker.

Jedi Knight and hero.

Father.

Another shudder trickled down his spine. In order to find his father, he would have to face the demon he had become. The demon who had stolen so much from him.

But...he didn't have the courage...

Not...not yet.

Refocusing, he turned his attention back to the controls. It was going to be a long flight.

* * *

The X-Wing hissed softly as it settled on the mossy forest floor, the hydraulics steaming furiously. Muggy air rushed in, the atmosphere so thick it felt like drowning with every breath. Luke sighed, gloved hands on either side of the cockpit.

Dagobah really never changed.

He could feel Yoda's Force presence, a gleaming light only a few kilometres away. A snort. A few kilometres on Dagobah was the equivalent of seven Sith hells of monsters and hazardous terrain. Luke couldn't stop the self deprecating laugh. Facing seven Sith hells was better than facing one Sith father. Mechanical fingers curled around the hilt of his lightsabre, muscles going taut as he braced himself for the long trek to the hermit's hut.

He could still feel the shimmering light of Yoda's Force presence when it happened. From the bog, a leviathan unlike any he had faced, burst forth, gaping jaws rank with the stench of rotting carcasses, it's body coiling and twisting as it hoisted itself far above the surface of the water. He fell back in shock, his hands clawing at the mossy ground, his boots kicking at the turf, desperate to distance himself. The thing hissed and let out a rattling screech, talons snipping in the air. And lunged.

Luke hardly had the time to move. His face slammed into mossy turf as he threw himself to the sound, his head ringing. Teeth clicked besides his ear as the beast drew itself back, massive body curling, tensing, preparing to strike.

Lightsabre.

He had to get to his lightsabre. Eyes watering, he stumbled to his feet, blinding reaching out with the Force to find the weapon.

Nothing.

A heart stopping roar.

The creature flung itself forth again, the scaled snout catching him below the ribs, forcing a startled cry from his mouth as he rolled aside, cursing his luck. His head hit something hard. His real hand grouped for the object, praying for his lightsabre. His fingers closed around petrified bark. Gritting his teeth, he jerked the branch free from the bog and spun to face the seething monster. The Force screamed a warning. Luke threw himself to the ground, the barbed tail of the animal whizzing just above his head, sheering a few blonde hairs off. His muscles bunched. And he threw himself forward, to the swamp, to the heart of the beast. The belly bowed under the branch. He pushed harder.

And the branch snapped.

The scaled underbelly surged up, the beast drawing itself to its full height, spittle flying forth from its gaping maw. The Force was screaming in his head, the scaled torso of the monster was tightening around his body, his strength was draining, his eyesight fading. Gleaming fangs snapped before his face, the air turning rank. His eyes closed.

After everything.

It ended in a swamp on Dagobah.

He smiled weakly. Perhaps...perhaps it was for the –

Something glimmered. Something foreign, something faint. But alive.

He reached out towards it. The thing fluttered frantically, pain spilling across the space that separated them. But Force, it was bright! It was brighter than anything he had ever encountered and – it was gone.

He could feel his spirit stumbling at the sudden vacuum in space. And then...

A glimmer. A spark. Hardly there, a shadow of what it had been...

...but it was there.

And Luke latched on to it. Strength spilled across, tempered by sorrow, pain, fright, anger and...love?

The Force surrounding him shrieked.

Luke's eyes snapped open.

The beast lunged.

Silence.

* * *

Darkness had fallen over Dagobah, drenching the misty bog in a blanket of ominous night. Silence reigned, broken only by the soft twittering of the swamp creatures and the quiet hum of the insects. In the middle of the makeshift camp, Artoo Detoo was beginning to worry about his charge. The younger Skywalker was bold, reckless and often disregarding of his own safety, much like his father before him. He knew the elder would always come out on top, but this one... he worried for the younger one. Recently, the boy had often lost himself in his thoughts, and after their last experience on Dagobah, it was best not to let one's mind wander. Especially in the presence of monsters like the ones on the swamp-covered planet. Luke had left to find Yoda hours ago. And still there was nothing. Not a sound from the jungle around him, aside from the occasional, melancholy cry of the birds.

A branch snapped.

Another.

Artoo's dome turned quickly to face the intruder, whistling softly as a greeting – or a warning.

A soft grunt.

The crackle of branches and leaves.

Luke Skywalker stumbled forth from the brush, clutching his stomach with one hand, his lightsabre clenched in the other. Cuts and scrapes decorated his skin, his lip was busted, one eye was swollen shut.

But he was alive!

Artoo whistled happily and rolled over to the young Skywalker as quickly as he could. Luke laughed softly, letting his hand drop away from his stomach to brush the dome of the little droid.

"Heya, Artoo." His voice cracked. Artoo beeped, irritated and worried at the same time. Luke laughed that same, slightly broken laugh.

"I'm alright, Artoo. Just a little busted up. I know, I know, I look awful, don't I?" Artoo bumped against his side gently, cooing, distraught. Luke just rubbed his dome, grunting as he lowered himself to the ground, his back propped against a tree.

"I didn't make it to Yoda's, but you already knew that, didn't you?" Luke smiled softly and closed his eyes, leaning back as he listened to the droid badger him about being careful in the swamps, and to stop living with his head in the clouds. Somehow, somehow he had found the strength to draw his lightsabre to him through the Force, impaling the beast with the blade seconds before it would have ended him. He felt the fear and pain grow in the back of his mind and tried to release it to the Force. He nearly died fighting that beast. He could have died. And he nearly did. If not for that presence...

He paused, trying to figure out who it had been. It had been...so...so bright! For all of half a second, it was brighter than a nova, blocking out the darkness of his own thoughts, for one, brief, flitting second. And then it had disappeared, and came back, fainter, dulled, frightened.

...familiar.

He felt his face pull into a frown at that thought. Familiar? Familiar how? And why?

With Artoo still beeping in the background, he let his mind drift. Away from the small encampment on Dagobah, away from the Outer Rim... he felt himself drawn irresistibly towards that faint, glittering light. It was blinking at times, occasionally vanishing entirely. And then... he felt the conscious. And almost immediately recoiled. It was so...dark. So fearful. So full of hate and anger. But beneath that...

...beneath that...

There was love. Pain. Sorrow.

_Love._

He gently brushed against it. And felt it freeze. Petrified. With shock. And then...

_/...Luke...? Is that... is that you?/_ Luke felt the ground drop out under him.

_Vader._

Or...was it...

_/...Father...?/_ He tightened his shields as much as he possibly could, waiting, his nerves humming with anticipation.

_/L-Luke...M-My son...Are you-/_

_/Are you in the presence of the Emperor?/_ There was a long pause. Luke held a baited breath.

_/No...I am not near the Emperor. He has sent me... he has sent me to the Imperial Capital, therefore, I am not near him, Luke./_ A heavy sigh of relief. Fear and trepidation threatened to overpower him, but his shields had detected nothing. Vader hadn't decided to probe, yet he was on Coruscant... perhaps he already knew? He clamped down on the feelings that nearly flooded across the bond. He couldn't let Vader know. He couldn't betray his friends any more. He had to talk to Vader. He had to talk to his father.

_/That's...that's good to hear, father./_ Luke swallowed nervously. Might as well just talk... _/I'm training, father. I'm training to become a better Jedi. When we...we fought... I realized how lacking my skills were, and I knew I had to be a better Jedi to stand a chance against the Emperor. So, I'm training, though it's not going too great, and I guess.../_ He knew he was babbling, but he knew he had to talk to the monster on the other side of the mental link. He had to try and find his father in there somehow.

And that was all that really mattered.

* * *

He had been resting in the corner of an alley, alone and hidden from prying eyes when he felt the familiar presence brush against his mind.

To say he was shocked was an understatement.

Emotions raged through him.

Luke had contacted him.

Luke had _contacted __**him!**_

Luke!

_My son..._

Oh, Force, he had stolen the boy's hand from him! He had destroyed his innocence! What would he say? Did he hate hi-

Vader caught himself. Hate was good. Hate was what he needed the boy to feel. Hate would turn him to the Dark Side. Something inside him contracted painfully at that.

And then Luke started talking. Just... rambling on and on, about training and the Jedi.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he let his head lean back against the durasteel wall, listening to his son's voice fill his head. The light radiated from his child.

_Oh, my son..._

And for reasons he couldn't explain, Vader let the light shine across the fragile bond.

* * *

_Please review! Thanks for reading!_


	10. Part I: Ten

**Author's Note**: Gosh, I love you guys so much! Thanks for all the frequent reviews and the constant support! You guys are just wonderful! I do hope, though, that you're reading the first person tidbits right at the beginning of the stories. I think you'll find that if you piece them together, when the story is further along of course, the _real_ story can be found. It's like a separate storyline, but not. So, you should really pay attention to those. C; Other than that, gosh, I'm so honoured and flattered by all the attention and love this story is getting. Huge thank you to **WildHorseFantasy, ILDV, Alderaan Girl, froovygirl, Ethyrin Kairos and Mireilles3** for reviewing! Even though I don't often reply to your reviews (super bad habit, I'm so sorry.), your reviews mean the world to me! I almost gave up on this chapter, I kinda was waning on inspiration, but re-reading some reviews gave me A New Hope (I can be punny). I love you guys! C: Just a heads up, though. This chapter will cut back and forth between Luke and Vader, and I'm sorry about the choppiness, but please bear with me!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, probably never will.

* * *

Ten

* * *

Whatever came over me, between tears and laughter, in that first ray of joy, I don't know. But it was the voice of the Emperor that brought me back. You could not blame him. He was so codgerly, as we say in private. But I held no fear.

* * *

There was a fluttering. A faint, beating of light deep within the darkness. A soft glowing that grew as Luke continued to talk. He could feel it, shaking and trembling, deep within the husk of a man that carried the genes of his father. So slight, so delicate, so _frightened_... but there.

_/...and so Windy and I were cruising along Beggar's Canyon in my skyhopper, trying to bullseye womp rats, but I somehow crashed, which now, looking back on it, doesn't make any sense, because I guess I'm something of a pretty good pilot-/_

_/You underestimate yourself greatly, my son. You're much more than "something of a good pilot"./_

Vader's voice was quiet, tremulous with emotion that he had never dreamed the faceless demon could have.

_Not Vader._

_Father._

_/I...thanks, I guess. I mean, Uncle Owen always told me that I was going to get myself in an accident, and I just proved him right. I learned to take his advice pretty soundly after that. Of course, that's when the Sand People showed up, and Windy and I had to make sure the Jawas didn't steal the skyhopper. We would have been stranded in the middle of nowhere.../_

Rumbling seemed to echo across the link, rattling his bones with...

...amusement?

_/It's very good that you managed to escape unharmed. Though, the statistical probability of being beset by both groups of Tatooine natives is near astronomical. You certainly have your way with luck, Luke./_

Luke sat for a moment, trying to siphon out the meaning of Vader's cryptic words. Another faint rumble, closer to a snort. And it hit him.

_/Hey! Not you, too! I already get enough teasing from Han!/_ And then, in spite of himself, a smile crept across his face, mirth bubbling up from where he had sealed it away.

And then he was laughing.

And his father was chuckling softly from across the stars.

And for the first time, Luke felt the overwhelming fear slip, just a bit.

A snaking ray reached across the endless parsecs that divided them, stretching thin, hardly a thread. Luke tentatively reached out to touch the sliver of light.

And he was drowning.

Drowning in an ocean of desperation, fright, terror and...

And...

Love.

Force, vape it.

Love.

There were no words for the love that flooded over him in that instance.

It was a love that kissed every injury better with a kind word. A love that held fast through nightmares. A love listened to problems and helped solve them. A love that cheered for every victory. A love that stayed up late making model fighters. A love that never doubted, never lost faith. A love that saw every flaw and loved each imperfection. A love that never fell short, gave out or failed.

A love so powerful, so deep, so heart-wrenching. Something deep within him cried, ached for the flickering coruscation.

_/Oh, fa-/_

There was nothing.

Nothing to touch, nothing to talk to.

Not even shields.

It was as if Vader no longer existed.

As if he had so wholly and completely rejected his ties to his son, nothing more remained of the bond. As if the dark side had completely overcome him, completely destroyed the flickering glow that had been buried within him.

But no... that couldn't be it! That light! It had glowed! It had been so strong! He had touched it! He had felt the strength and depth...and...and love! Love that poured across the stars for him! So why... why had Vader... his father...

Luke clenched his fists, his teeth gritting against specks of silt. Jedi didn't feel like this, Jedi didn't feel like breaking every tree in the forest until he felt better. Jedi didn't want to chase after that kriffing monster who had fathered him and throttle him for –

Deep breath.

Release it to the Force.

Anger is the path to the Dark Side.

Deep breath.

There is no passion. There is peace.

Deep breath.

Release it to the Force.

A deep sigh through his nose.

The red tint of rage faded, the cool hues of blue mist and green underbrush filling his vision. It had been so easy. It had been so easy to listen to that dark whispering that clouded around the back of his mind, the wraiths fed by the characteristic fear that accompanied his thoughts of Vader.

His skin grew clammy. He forced a laugh, turning to the fretting droid besides him.

"Oh, Artoo, don't worry about me. I'll be alright. I'll have to be more careful when looking for Yoda this time though." The droid whistled worriedly. Luke gave a weary laugh.

"I know... I have to be careful when talking to him. But, Artoo... he didn't try and turn me to the Dark Side... he just listened to me ramble on and on. What is he trying to do?" His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "I felt it. I felt the Dark Side. It was so easy, I was afraid... and angry... and it was there. I don't know why he turned... but..." He closed his eyes, the hand resting on the dome of the astromech trembling with unspoken feelings. He forced a sad smile for the little droid. "Anyways, I've got to get going. I'll contact you when I get there. Don't worry too much, okay?" The droid warbled indignantly, and Luke laughed.

"I know! I'll be safe this time, promise!" One last pat on the metallic shell, and the boy disappeared into the misty forest once again.

* * *

He sensed the dark tendrils of energy before they reached out. The Emperor was growing anxious. The crushing darkness reached out for him.

And he realized it in a jolt. He was still bonded to Luke.

No, no no no.

The Emperor was absolute in the darkness, as firmly ingrained in the Dark Side as Yoda was in the light.

Luke didn't have that absolution of will.

_Not my son, too!_

And he severed the tie.

Instantly, his nerves burned, his skull throbbed, his blood pounding relentlessly within the remnant of his body, roaring in his ears. Rasping breaths echoed off high durasteel walls. The Emperor probed at his shields, opening the link between master and apprentice. The agony that flooded across the bond pleased him greatly. Pain was the way of the Dark Side. Pain would wipe the light from his weak apprentice.

_/My apprentice, I have sensed a shift in the Force./_

_/A-A shift, my master?/_ Even the mental voice in which he spoke strained and quivered in distress. Amusement trickled through the link, a soft chuckle from the decrepit Sith Lord.

_/Yes, my foolish apprentice. A shift. Towards the light./ _The mirth vanished as he snapped at Vader, irritation plain.

_/Skywalker./_

_/Perhaps. I was concerned, Lord Vader, that perhaps you were weakening in your power in the Dark Side./_

_/That is hardly the case, my master. The Dark Side is as strong in me as ever./_ Palpatine snarled. Vader grit his teeth.

_/Then prove it, Lord Vader. Destroy Skywalker. As strong as he would be in the powers of the Dark Side, I have foreseen that he will refuse to turn, resulting in our destruction. Destroy him, and I will...overlook your failure./_

Silence.

Palpatine waited.

Too long.

Summoning dark energy, he focused on his silent apprentice, gave a faint smirk, and without hesitation, sent Sith lightning raging across the bond. At first, the only noise was a faint grunt. So he increased the voltage, waiting until Vader's screams were ringing in his mind. Palpatine tipped his head back, revelling in the sound of helplessness and submission. And turned the voltage up more.

_What have you been hiding from me, my apprentice?_ He probed at his mind, expecting to be met with little resistance.

He hit walls harder that durasteel.

Frowning, he increased the voltage yet again, hearing Vader's screams grow hoarse. The walls remained sturdy. Finally he relinquished, the shroud of the Dark Side trembled around his unconscious apprentice.

Silence.

Vader slowly came to.

Silence.

_/...yes, my master./_

* * *

The trip to Yoda's remained mostly uneventful, with a few unintentional stumbles into the bogs, and after a few hours, the small hut emerged from the thick mist. Luke breathed out a heavy sigh. It had taken long enough wandering through the Sith accursed swamp. But, if it meant answers... anything was worth it. Answers. Finally. A deep breath. He stepped forward, crossing the final few paces to the little abode.

The door creaked open with a whisper of a push, silence hung in the heavy, muggy air.

"Master Yoda?"

Silence.

Luke crept through the door, wading through the empty rooms. Searching, looking, desperate to find the wise master.

Soft, rasping breathing.

"Here, I am." He spun, eyes seeking, scanning for the source.

Hidden mostly by thick woollen blankets, Yoda lay curled on the small cot, large ears drooping slightly.

"Answers, you seek." His voice crackled just so, the gravelled voice tainted with age. Luke knelt beside the bed, hands balling the thick blanket between his fists.

"Yes, master Yoda. When I was on Bespin, I confronted Vader...and he said some things. Things I know in my heart are true." Yoda gave a soft, warbling hum.

"Told you the truth, did he?"

"Yes, master Yoda. But master, there is good in him, I have felt it!" A soft sigh came from the cot.

"Lie to you, Obi-Wan did not. Told you the truth as he believed, he did." Yoda closed his eyes. "Your father, Anakin Skywalker was. Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker is not." Luke shook his head.

"But Master Yoda, I have felt the good in him. My father...my father is still in there." Large, bulbous eyes reopened.

"Felt a shift in the Force, I have. Right, you may be. Old, I am becoming, and rest, I must. If some good in Vader, there is, then save him, your final trial will be. If not, defeat him, you must." Luke sank back, nodding slowly. Echoes of the sheer love that had spilled from the core of his father echoed across his mind. Frantic determination seized him, and he lunged forward, seizing the gnarled hand of the old Jedi.

"I _will_ save him, master Yoda." The passion in his voice was unbecoming of a Jedi trainee, but at this point, it didn't matter. A tired smile pulled at wizened lips.

"Much like your father, you are." The grandmaster chuckled softly as Luke flushed at the passionate statement. Yoda's eyes slipped shut once more. "Sleep now, I will. Go. Save your father, you must." The embarrassed blush that burned up his neck faded into a smile.

"Yes, master!"

* * *

Admiral Piett paced in front of a battalion of troopers, in front of a small crowd of suspicious characters that had been rounded up, in front of a silent spaceport. Vader, once again, had not contacted anyone, nor had he returned, behaviours so very uncharacteristic of the commander. In the back of his mind, the nagging concern that Vader had been ambushed clawed, gnawing relentlessly. For half a moment, he contemplated sending a squad out to check up on his commander, or at the very least, comming him. But the unspoken threat that intoned his words was enough to keep him quiet. So, turning brusquely on his heels, he continued his silent pacing, listening to his footsteps ring above the whimpers of captured rebels.

His comlink rang. His private number.

Hesitantly, he answered.

"This is Admiral Piett, speak quickly, I am quite occupied at the moment." A long silence. Piett began to wonder if some child had accidently dialled his number.

"Admiral...it seems that...I require your assistance." The unmistakable baritone rumble of his commander hissed across the comm. Ignoring the fine beads of sweat pooled on his brow, he stood smartly.

"How may I be of service, milord?" A momentous pause, nothing but the rasping breathing of Darth Vader filling the static.

"It seems that I...am indisposed at the moment, and I require assistance. I shall send you...my coordinates. Do not take any troops with you...if at all possible." Piett understood. With a voice near a whisper, he replied.

"Of course, milord." And ended the call. Despite his volatile nature and deadly respite, Vader was one of the better superiors he had served. If not the best. The man (machine?) was a brilliant tactician, expecting only the best from his underlings, requiring nothing from them that he wouldn't expect them to do. Unfortunately, his one weakness was his overwhelming presence stifled any coherent thought the men and women serving him had. Damn it, he himself was guilty of it, too. Thank whatever deity or higher power that he had figured out that pre-planning speeches and having automatic responses could ad would save his life. His thoughts running rampant, he turned and hurried from the spaceport following the coordinates.

That fear that ruled him changed all at once. He could name the year, date, hours, even minutes of the incident. The memory played in his head so frequently, he worried that it would interfere with his ability to perform his duties. It was late, most of the crew rested on board the _Executor, _and Piett had been running last minute errands before turning in when he walked into Vader. Tripped over, would be a better verb, he mused quietly, his pace quickening. The man (machine?) was sprawled on the ground, and from where he stood, the sparks and loose circuitry glowed faintly in the dim light. At first he had frozen, unable to think, unable to breath, unable to stop the string of nonsense he had babbled frantically trying to apologize. No reaction. And then...then he realized what was wrong. The usually harsh breathing hissed in faint wheezes, the giant body remained motionless. And he had asked, quietly, if the man was alive. The faint, rumbling laughter that had shaken itself from the shell of a man seared into his memory.

_"Hardly, Admiral. It seems I have neglected my duties and the Emperor has been displeased with my performance." Another shaking chuckle. "I suppose this is well deserved punishment." Piett stumbled for words._

_"Milord, excuse me if I speak freely, but I find it difficult to believe that the Emperor has reduced you to this state." Damnit, he just had to speak his mind. He was surely dead, Vader would never forgive him for that, insubordination, Darth Vader did not forgive, he –_

_"Many...are not who they seem, Admiral. It would do you well to...remember that." Piett nodded slowly._

_"How may I help you, milord?"_

Piett frowned and hurried. If Lord Vader was in a similar state, he needed to hurry before locals saw him. The things that would do to the reputation of the Empire! The frown deepened, and Piett broke into a slow jog.

And then he saw him.

He smiled grimly.

Just like last time.

The dark helm tipped towards him, the soulless black sockets boring right to his heart. Then slumped against his chest with a shuddering sigh.

"Admiral. I would be...most grateful for your assistance." Piett gave him a grim smile.

"Of course, milord."

* * *

_Please review! Thanks for reading!_


	11. Part I: Eleven

**Author's Note: **I am truly sorry for the delay that it took to get this chapter cranked out for you guys! I got distracted by school, a terrible bout of lethargy and apathy, and a rekindled obsession with Sherlock Holmes. So! Here is your very late chapter. I wanted to write any chapter but this one, so this was basically torturous. :c HUGE thank you to all my followers, favouriters and reviewers who somehow haven't told me to bugger off just yet. C; A thank you to ILDV and Guest for reviewing (I managed to reply to everyone else, shocker, I know.) And, furthermore, I apologize in advance if this chapter comes across as horribly sloppy and choppy. I haven't written in quite some time, I've been busy with moving, school and applications. Sorry. :/ So! I apologize in advance, please review this chapter, so I can fix it up, because chances are, I will fix it!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will.

* * *

Eleven

* * *

If anyone could have seen us at that moment, I believe he would have thought we were two enemies met for a battle to the death. I know we stood like that, a few feet apart, every nerve taut, each with eyes fixed on the other with a terrible watchfulness. This is a part in my history on which my charge against the enemies of the Empire chiefly rests; and therefore I must try at any cost to write what is wholly true. Yet it is hard to know perfectly what I was thinking while those huge, silent moments went past. By remembering it too often I have blurred the memory itself.

* * *

He would never get over that first feeling of euphoria that washed over him every time the mask came off. Clean air hit his scarred visage. It had been days since he had had a chance to relax in his hyperbaric chamber, but even now, he couldn't calm his racing mind.

* * *

_Minutes, hours, or even days could have passed in the time the two spent mending the destroyed, melted mechanics that made up Vader's body. He didn't know. It hardly mattered anymore, did it? The Admiral crouched awkwardly beside him, kneeling over the fried circuitry of his right arm, painstakingly repairing and rewiring._

_"Milord... if you'll pardon my curiosity, what was it that you were doing in the slums of Coruscant?" Piett asked softly, careful not to make his tone too demanding or curious. A long silence, filled only by the rasps of Vader's respirator._

_"I was... led here by the Force. I..." For the first time in all of his years of service, Piett heard his commanding officer hesitate._

_"I..." Vader seemed to choke on his words, stumbling over what he wanted to say next._

_Silence descended, save for the mechanical breaths._

_"...I was lead to believe that the Force was leading me to Skywalker."_

_"But Milord, none of the citizens in the airport were part of the –"_

_"Admiral, you may disperse with the pleasantries. They are..." Heavy, rasping breaths. "...unneeded and unnecessary for the time being." Piett nodded in response and returned his focus to the wires on the legs of his superior. And so time passed, Piett working on the right leg, Vader mending his left, with the silence of the slums ringing in the air. After hours of companionable silence, Vader regained enough control over his limbs and rose, ignoring the squeals and groans that immediately followed the actions. Piett quickly put out his hands to steady his commander, but Vader batted him aside._

_"Your concern is... admirable, but unnecessary, Piett. The Force will give me the...strength." Vader hesitated, a flicker of obligation crossing his conscience. But just as quickly, it was gone. A faint tremor spasmed across the drawn features of the Admiral, but vanished into an indeterminable mask._

_"Of course, milord." Piett's words were clipped, and he bowed his head. Vader straightened then, grime spattered cloak tumbling down the broad back, trailing along the ground as he staggered forward. The Admiral almost felt pride in the staunch determination of his commander. But..._

_"Apologies, milord, but your personal aircraft is the other way."_

_The flight back to the Executor was long, tiresome and filled with an overwhelming silence. The few crew members on board the ship worked furiously at their stations, seemingly intent at their posts. Fingers trembled, fumbled with controls, eyes darted across the slouched figure in the captain's chair. Why...why wasn't Lord Vader on his own ship? Why was he in control of a medical transport? Why was he –_

_The man in question stood. They had arrived. Without a word, he swept past them, the rank stench of alcohol and death sticks trailing behind him, hanging in the air._

_Once freed from the stifling incompetence of the medical crew, Vader stalked towards his chambers, hissing out a stream of Huttese curses, Stupid, incompetent –_

_"Commander, sir, there's been a pr-"_

_"Not now, I do not wish to be disturbed!" He shoved forward, ignoring how his battered mechanics protested or how the man yelped. The next man who crossed his path –_

_"Milord, there are –"_

_The last veneer of control vanished. The Force burst forth, curling, twisting, clutching at the man's throat, tightening. His eyes bulged as he clutched at his neck, gasping, his free hand clawing the thin air._

_"M-Milord-! Th-The Emperor... The Emperor has a message for you!" A warped laugh fizzled through the fried vocoder._

_"I do not have time to bother with the kriffing Emperor."_

_Well. That was a first. Kriffing Emperor... Last time he used that adjective in relation to a person was..._

_Was..._

_He released the man abruptly._

_"I recommend you leave me in my chambers, and I am not to be disturbed. Is that understood?" Garbled words, a stuttered answer. Vader stalked off._

* * *

Vader clenched his teeth.

Skywalker.

The man he had once been – that week, feeble minded creature he had been – pervaded his every thought, his every action. The death and fear that enveloped him at one time no longer trailed behind him, no longer frightened his officers into submission.

Weakness. Growing, running rampant. Infiltrating his system, infecting him from the inside out.

The Dark Side shifted, hissed around him, talons gripping his arms, his chest, his skull, clinging to him with a rabid desperation. Suffocating.

Why was it reacting like this? A dark mistress that clung to the man who cheated with her, when before she had been all seductive allure and devious charm to lure him to her feet.

Vader froze.

He wanted away.

For all of five seconds, he had wanted to divorce himself from the demon that had bewitched him from the dark side.

Hell, he already had tried.

His skin prickled, gooseflesh erupting down his neck and back, his breathing suddenly came in ragged gasps, as if the oxygen had vanished from the room. He defied his master. He lied to his master. He lied to his master about the weakening of the dark side and hadn't been caught.

As powerful as Luke was in the light, he hadn't caused the shift.

No, that shift was caused by a much more powerful being.

A shift from the darkness to the light.

Shields clamped down on his thoughts.

No. Don't go there. Can't go there. In order... in order to protect Luke.

No matter what. Protect Luke.

_Protect my son._

* * *

The night sky on Dagobah was so vastly different from the one on Tatooine, the vast constellations glittered from above the canopy of trees.

It was beautiful, Luke decided. Beautiful in a way that the Force-forsaken desert planet could never be.

Footsteps.

Luke turned to see Obi-Wan's shimmering figure traipse through the undergrowth to join him outside Yoda's cottage. He sat.

"Something is troubling you, Luke." The old man's spoke softly, gravel rolling in his voice. Luke couldn't stop the sigh.

"Yeah, it's Va- my father. I just don't know what to think about him, Ben."

"Patience, Luke. You will be stronger, and wiser the next time you confront him."

"But Obi-Wan! I can't fight him! I know he's done horrible things, and I know he's a faceless machine...but he's still my father!"

Obi-Wan let out a heavy sigh before replying.

"I understand, Luke. He was a brother to me. But the man who was your father, and my best friend has died."

Silence descended again, broken only by the restlessness of the jungle.

Obi-Wan hesitated before turning to face Luke again.

"There has been a shift in the Force, recently. It seems, Luke, that your strength in the Light Side has increased more than I thought would be possible." He chuckled softly. "I really shouldn't be surprised, knowing who your father was." Luke turned to stare at the wizened Jedi.

"My father... can you tell me about who he was?" Try as he might, Luke couldn't keep the hope from his voice. Obi-Wan just laughed, not unkindly.

"Of course, Luke. Let's see here... ahhh. Your father... When we first met, it was on Tatooine, and we met much in the way you and I did. He was running from an enemy, and hopped on board the ship I was on. Of course, his enemy was a Sith apprentice. An incredibly clever and powerful Sith, at that..."

Luke listened in silence, spellbound as Obi-Wan wove tales of danger, deception and danger across the night.

"...at first, the only reason I trained him was because Master Qui-Gon asked me, with his dying breath. I... I must admit, to hear that his dying words were reserved for your father rather than his own padawan... it... tore at me. It took lots of meditation to release all the anger I had into the Force. But... your father, if he was anything, he was tenacious and latched onto me for some strange reason. And I... I couldn't help but to love him. He constantly tinkered with machines, and the little brat that he was, participated in garbage pit races – which were very illegal on Coruscant – and nearly got himself killed by a Blood Carver before I managed to save him." Obi-Wan laughed then, but it came out as more of an exasperated huff.

"Sometime later, well, I suppose it was quite some time later by this point, ew were assigned to protect Senator Simon Greyshade from assassination. Oh that, that was quite the adventure, that was. Droids, Keluda, a Dug and even a princess attempted to off the poor man. I like to think that the reason we had so many problems was because Anakin attracted danger like a magnet would. And then..."

Oni-Wan's eyes glazed, his breathing deepened. Luke waited expectantly.

Silence.

"And then?" He prompted the old Jedi cautiously.

"The Clone Wars began." Obi-Wan was lightyears away, his eyes unfocused as he continued. "It had been a month since the Clone Wars had begun, and Anakin and I... we were trying to prevent Count Dooku from gaining access of the Dark Reaper – Count Dooku was the apprentice of Darth Sidious at that time. The only reason we knew was because we had this mission – Anakin was protecting Senator Amidala, I was investigating on Geonosis, and I was captured. Anakin, being the idiot he was, came with the Senator in an attempt to rescue me. It was a splendid operation, that's for sure. They both got captured as well. We were set up in an arena, they were going to feed us to beasts for the entertainment of the Geonosians. But, of course, we managed to escape and other Jedi showed up to help us. Anakin and I pursued the Count and when we fought... your father lost his arm trying to protect me. We both would have died if Yoda had not shown up when he did. I suspect it was shortly after that your father married the Senator. Yes, Luke. Padmé Amidala, queen of Naboo and Senator from Naboo was your mother. And they were very much in love. I only wish I had seen if... I could have stopped Palpatine from – ah, yes, the Dark Reaper.

"This was the time that your father earned the title of 'The Hero With No Fear', during those awful, awful years of war. The Dark Reaper would have swung the war in the Count's favour, it was a superweapon of mass destruction. Dooku had a Force Harvester, a key part of the machine, and we were supposed to retrieve it from him. Anakin was captured, but of course, he escaped. Your father ended up destroying the machine, but at the cost of whatever humility was left in him. He was arrogant, so unbelievably arrogant. Sometimes I wonder if that arrogance was the beginning of his path to the Dark Side.

"The War raged on, and we were sent to Ohma-D'um, and there... there we encountered Asajj Ventress. She was...she was ruthless. She would be our enemy for the rest of the war. She was Dooku's apprentice, really. The Sith are all hateful and always trying to kill their masters with their own apprentices. It was a few more missions and fights, and then your father was knighted. Your father gave his padawan braid to his wife. I won't lie, I was hurt by that. Truely. But then, Anakin and I didn't get to be like brothers until a bit later than that.

"I think we really grew close when your father gained the scar on his face. We were facing Ventress again, and she sliced open his face, but he kept fighting. I was proud of him. I was so proud of him, and when I became more and more reliant on him to save my sorry hide, it was hardly a surprise. As I said before, your father was the greatest pilot in all of the galaxy. And then, shockingly, he got an apprentice. A padawan of his own. I teased him ruthlessly. She was every bit as stubborn and headstrong as he was. He hated it. I felt the Force was finally letting him understand what he had put me though. The two of them were inseparable as the war wore on."

Obi-Wan continued his narrative, time seeming to blur as he reached the close of the Clone Wars, and then the danger with the Separatists, how the Chancellor rose to have unquestionable power in the Senate, and then...

"We tried to kill each other, Luke. His eyes... your father had eyes much like yours, but they...they weren't that colour anymore. They were the most sickening yellow colour I have ever seen. And they haunted me for the rest of my life. Even now, even as a Force spirit, I can still see those soulless eyes. I have no idea how things went so wrong. That's something you'd have to ask An... Vader. Anakin.. my best friend, and your father... he's been dead for quite some time, I'm afraid." The spirit's voice cracked just so. Luke stared at him, awestruck. Obi-Wan managed a small smile, but the corners of his mouth trembled, and Luke could almost see a ghostly sheen on the eyes of the old man.

"He's not." Luke's voice shattered the moment. Obi-Wan gave him a dubious look. "Anakin. My father. He's not dead."

"I am sorry, Luke, but your father has been consumed by Vader."

"No! He hasn't! There is good in him, I have felt it, I know it to be true! Anakin Skywalker is stronger than he has been in twenty years! Anakin Skywalker is co-"

Luke had thought it was impossible for a ghost to pale, but before him, Obi-Wan had gone ashen. He closed his eyes. Opened them.

"The shift... in the Force... it... it is quite a bit for you to have accomplished in your short stay here. But that doesn't mean..."

Silence descended for the last time. Neither man dared to voice the question that hung above them, suspended under the solemn branches of the trees, floating just above the endless mist.

_Is Anakin Skywalker coming back?_

* * *

_Thank you for reading! I don't normally beg, but please, PLEASE review this chapter, I am at quite a low for writing motivation, and as a result, this chapter is very shoddy. Huge thank you to froovygirl for keeping me motivated, and I am so SO sorry for the long delay! Thank you so much for bearing with me!_


	12. Part I: Twelve

**Author's Note:** Okay, this one is going to be short, sweet and mindless (read: shameless) fluff. It's about to get really, really angsty, so I figured I better throw this in so I don't get crucified when the angst hits. Oh! And by the way, there will be around twenty five chapters total, give or take, to this story, so we are roughly halfway through being finished!

**Angie:** Thank you! I was worried about how Obi-Wan's voice would get lost in the narration, but I'm glad that it carried over well! Thank you, and I hope you keep reading!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, never have, never will! C:

* * *

Twelve

* * *

A grey shape in the twilight came towards me. "You have joined the Sith?" he said. "Yes," said I, after a long pause. I could not tell him the truth, I thought. But somehow, it seemed he knew it anyways.

* * *

Three days had passed. Three whole days since Vader had returned from Coruscant, three insufferable days spent taking apart and rewiring the extensive wiring in his body. The haphazard attempt that had been made to fix them in the slums had only managed to drag Vader's failing systems back into the hyperbaric chamber, and even then, it had been close.

Three days alone in his quarters.

Three days alone with his thoughts.

Luke...Luke had been raised by his aunt and uncle, on Tatooine. Alone, really, on that Force forsaken planet. Raised on the knowledge that his father was dead. That his father had died in space. An altogether untrue notion, but to be raised, fatherless, just as...

...just as...

Well.

A shy, hesitant fantasy whispered in the recesses of his mind. Images of Naboo, Varykino, the lakes, the island, the beaches, the endless skies and grassy meadows. The perfect setting for a family. A family. Together. His former self laughing, holding Padmé –

Oh, Force.

She was beautiful. Blushing, radiant, laughing, twirling in his arms, a small Luke clutched to her chest, his wide blue eyes alight with happiness. Quiet walks on the beach would have become joy filled family outings, laughing as sand went everywhere and temporary castles were built along the shore. Luke wouldn't have been raised in the desolation of the Sith hell known as Tatooine, rather, he would have been raised on a lush, beautiful planet, surrounded by family.

Vader opened his eyes.

His eyes stung, his throat felt raw, as though he had been shouting for days on end. When a single drop of saltwater trailed down his cheek, he wrote it off as his eyes trying to heal. That was all. Right?

He clamped his jaw shut, his teeth clicking. He had failed his son. He had failed to give his son the life he deserved. One of happiness and opportunity. One of freedom. But now...

Now...

A shuddering sigh heaved from his tired body. He was exhausted. He hadn't slept in four days, his body, if it could be called that, was running low on energy. His shoulders ached miserably. And that wasn't even mentioning his neck. And despite his valiant efforts, his eyelids began to droop. He needed to...needed to finish...finish... his...

Darkness overtook him.

* * *

When he came to consciousness, he was in purgatory again. A place that wasn't quite his dreams, but wasn't quite his reality. The place where he could contact Luke. But... after his abrupt ending of their last talk, he hardly dared to venture that Luke would be remotely pleased to talk with him again.

The light fluttered in the distance.

And Vader made up his mind.

Hesitantly, ready to withdraw at any moment, he reached out, gently brushing against Luke's conscious. For all of a split second, his skin erupted in goosebumps as rank terror rolled in waves off his son, and then the fear was wrestled down, pinned under tough shields. Something tightened, just so, deep within Vader's chest.

_/Father...? Is that you?/_

For a moment, Vader couldn't speak. He was too nervous, too worried, too afraid of judgement. The Dark Side hissed at his cowardice, and he drew it around him like a cloak, drawing out it's courage.

_/Yes, Luke./_ A scathing, sarcastic remark rose to mind, but the time for that had long since passed. That time had ended twenty years ago, with Anakin Skywalker's life. _/I have my doubts that any other would be able to contact you in such a way./_ He remarked dryly.

Laughter. Soft, hesitant, but all the same, his son was laughing. Vader didn't realize when his lips had twisted into a small smile.

_/Oh, father, it is good to hear from you. I...I am sorry that I still fear you -/_

_/Do not apologize for that, Luke. It is justified fear. Fear can give you strength, my son. Fear can give you the reserves of power to draw on in times of peril./_

Silence. Vader swore under his breath.

_/I have to disagree, father. Fear will lead me to the Dark Side, and that's not a path I want to take. I'm could all too easily end up -/_ The implied '_like _you' hung in the air between the two men. An awkward pause. _/...end up losing the person I am. And I can't do that, father. I am sorry./_

_/You only do not understand the power that the Dark Side would give you. Power to rule the galaxy by my side! My son, we would destroy the emperor and rule in his stead./_

_/I will not turn, father. You will be forced to destroy me, first./_

Silence fell again. Vader shifted nervously, not quite knowing what to say to his son at that point. He had hardly imagined his son would be so stubborn.

_That's Skywalker blood, for you, _ a voice deep within him chided. _How could he be any different?_ The thought tugged his mouth back into a grim smile.

_/Your stubbornness is a legendary Skywalker trait./_ The comment was out before Vader could stop it. Not that it really mattered. Not that he particularly wanted to, either. Curiousity emitted from Luke now.

_/Is it? Ben told me a few stories about the two of you, but he didn't mention your stubbornness... I don't think. I could have tuned him out at some point./_ Sheepishness coloured his son's tone. Vader gave an amused huff.

_/Then it appears he has entirely missed the reason for all those stories./_ He couldn't help sniping at his old master. Luke just chuckled. A long silence passed again, but it wasn't oppressive or awkward. Not like the prior pauses.

_/Luke.../_ Vader began the hesitated, grappling with a way to ask the pressing question that nagged at his mind. _/Before I revealed that I was your father, what did you think your father was like?/_

He held his breath, waiting for a reply.

Seconds ticked by.

Nothing.

A minute passed.

Still nothing.

Silence.

And then...

_/Anakin Skywalker was the greatest hero this galaxy has ever known. I know he would have been the greatest father, too./_

And just like that, Vader's chest ripped itself apart. The pain was unbearable. The heart he thought had died reappeared with a vengeance, twisting, burning under his skin.

Why? Why couldn't he be with his son, why was he forced in that infernal suit, hiding his conversations with his son from that shrivelled prune of a master?! Why didn't the universe understand he needed to be there for his son? He NEEDED to be with his son! His son needed his help, his protection! Without him, Palpatine would destroy him, kill him!

Why...

Just...

Why couldn't he be the father he was meant to be?

The Dark Side swept over him, silencing his desperately pounding heart.

It...it was too late. Far too late to go back now.

He had stopped being Anakin Skywalker twenty years ago.

_Thank you for reading! If convenient, please review. If inconvenient, please review anyways! C; Stay tuned!_


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